


Shatter Me

by Pulchritudinem



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anxiety, BillDip, Other, Severe Depression, also some friendly dipifica actually, and a very very evil dorito, but not really, done, dont fackin' speak in ur tags, hella billdip actually, how to not spoil in your tags 101, im dangerously close to spoiling this fic and these are just fackin' tags, uhh, you guys don't read these anyway right?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-04-25 06:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4950616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pulchritudinem/pseuds/Pulchritudinem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the almost non-existent dreams of Dipper Pines, the boy finds himself in a gateway between reality and illusion when he comes across the mindscape of the most beautiful dreamer. Although, in pursuit of the creator, he begins to find out more than he ever wanted to and reunites with an old acquaintance that he believed to be long imaginary. Catching wind of the dark endeavor he’d just walked into and chasing a familiar girl who lives purely in her past, Dipper becomes immersed in a world of fictional characters, some proving to be much more real than anything the boy has ever had to face. As he tries desperately to evade the strange and enigmatic being of his childhood, Dipper experiences a shift in perception as the dreams he’d tried to leave behind long ago are re-experienced like never before, slowly submerging him in-between dimensions only separated through mirrors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hollow

_The sun had fallen into a canvas of purple and orange, adding a sort of amber glow to the world as it quickly started to recede into an amethyst haze. Through dull eyes, the world couldn’t seem more depressing, but as the wind shifted translucent curtains into a slow dance, something in the air condensed. Little was there to really feel, but to someone who was already numb, it was a disturbance in time._

_"What's the matter, star child?"_ _  
_

_Being used to his random visits, the boy hardly noticed the dark figure form through the reflection in his window as he curled up in a ball near the edge of his bed. He could tell immediately that he was there, but he didn’t bother to turn his head to see his entrance like he used to do in absolute fascination. With a weak clearing of his throat though, he made at least the delicate effort of groggy speech, speaking just loud enough to be perceptible. “I miss her.” He sniffled, tilting his head toward his arm to wipe away at his rosy face in mild humiliation._

_Silence shrouded the area in a deafening, blank embrace as the lights flickered until they dimmed to an almost inexistent glow. The deceptive angel neared the huddle on the floor before dumping a blanket over the shivering bundle of nerves. “You’ll catch a cold.” It warned, glancing back to the glass panes set ajar for him to enter through. A small arrangement of tiny stars were scattered at the base of the window, all hand-made with strange carvings on them that to any normal human would look like a child’s meaningless scribbles._

_The small boy gasped at the heavy material before huffing out a solemn whine. He could’ve been mistaken for a tad pole under a lily as he peaked out from under the thick, pooling, indigo comforter. “Maybe then I can go away with you instead.”_

_Tilting its head in mild interest, the shadow knelt down next to him. “Come away with me?”_

_“To heaven,” the boy breathed, sneezing out suddenly before curling back against the bed post._

_“Are you sure that’s what you want?” the figure asked again, reaching forward to scoop the child up into his lap. When he felt the boy trembling against his being, he tucked the blanket closer to him._

_Shuffling back into the strange yet somewhat gentle warmth, the boy whispered almost inaudibly, “If it’ll hurt less…”_

_Vibrations tickled the boy’s back as the entity hummed. “Where does it hurt?” he inquired gently._

_The boy could feel his eyes prick with pain and tears that painted his cheeks and nose in a most nearly glowing red as he noticed a hand come up to ruffle through his already ridiculously fluffed hair._

_“Right here.” He pointed to his chest, and the other rubbed at it softly, making the boy laugh delicately and hoarse, all at the same time. The foreign touch tickled his nerves in a comforting way, sending butterflies up his spine and rib cage and leaving the child’s heart beat even more erratic at the irregular breathing, something the stranger found interesting._

_“Better?” it smirked playfully, fingers forming an odd shape onto the boy. Perhaps it was a heart?_

_“Yeah…a little.” The child smiled back through watery eyes._

_But he never did get to go._

“Dipper, Honey? We’re here.”

Dipper blinked out of his reverie, looking blankly up at his mother who was by now juggling their stuff out of the cab. He squinted at her hand that came up to his arm to tug on it gently, only mildly urgent for him to be moving. It was obvious she didn’t want to startle the spaced-out boy and he had meant to smile sheepishly back at her when his gaze shifted to the rear-view mirror where the tired cabby sighed impatiently at his lethargic behaviour. He winced instead in apology before frowning.

“Mom, you…your purse!” The teen scrambled forward from the backseat to retrieve it before shaking his head and laughing. Popping his head back from the front seat, he gave her a playful yet knowing look that she returned with a laugh of her own. “I swear, you’d forget a unicorn in a hurricane if you got the chance.” He swung out of the vehicle easily, nodding to the cabby as he drove off.

“Are you trying to help me or accuse me, now?” she smiled.

Dipper shrugged. “Neither, I’m just letting you know.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Must be your Alzheimer’s finally kicking in.”

“I don’t have…” His mother blinked in confusion before shaking her head. “Hey! I’m not that old yet!”

Dipper grinned. “ _Yet_.”

“Dipper Pines!”

“I’m joking, mom!”

Narrowly avoiding getting lugged by a suitcase, Dipper tried passing his mother’s purse back to her, only to falter in his steps when he noticed just how busy she was carrying everything. Eyes trailing to her anxious gaze, Dipper sputtered. “Uhh, oh man. Let me help you..!” He hastily reached for his own suitcase after slinging his mother’s purse on like a satchel. When he saw the look of gratitude his mother offered him, he returned it with a grin of his own. It felt strange, to be smiling so genuinely, but he felt good for once…A kind of nice warmth he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

It must’ve been obvious too because his mother seemed to soften up at that before quietly huffing, “I wish you smiled like that more often.” Even though she had managed to make it sound so casual, it was still sudden, and it gave Dipper just enough reason to drop his expression as his mind winded up again like a music box. On the flip side, he felt a stab of guilt hearing his mother speak about him in such a mellow tone like it hurt her to say it, but on the other, he couldn’t help it. Today marked a very special day for him in which he hardly wanted to spend sulking around. If anything, he felt like celebrating for once; After all, today was the day he'd regain what he had lost long ago. Today was the day they would come back home.

Today was the day he’d reunite with his twin.

Dipper and Mabel had been separated when they were young due to their parents sudden fighting. To them, it had made little to no sense, but they disregarded the whole matter as simply being “Adult Shenanigans”. It was naïve of them to think that they would just get over it the way the twins did over their own miniscule bouts, but when the heated arguments began to take refuge in their dreams, they had come to realize how wrong they were. It only escalated from there, and the twins were afraid they'd divorce if they didn't do something, so they resorted to the only thing they thought they could do and prayed for someone to help them, anyone.

Even so, the twins would have _never_ thought to worry over being ripped apart themselves.

Eventually, after their parents decided to place some space in between eachother and move to different states—because Dipper and Mabel had actually attempted to sneak out and see each other when they were a city apart—Dipper made a friend.

But the stranger was no ordinary fellow. He was special, or so Dipper fervently insisted.

The entity was what Dipper liked to describe as being made up of “space” at the time. His arms were strange and starry sky-ed to look at, almost constantly cascading in a streams like glittery strings of stardust and obscure matter. Being near him in itself felt like being wrapped up in a blanket of the universe. He would sometimes leave behind a trail of constellations that left the floor underneath him burning in black fog and white shimmering stars; It was like he wasn’t quite able to keep himself together, and that was something that Dipper found himself understanding quite intimately.

Of course, whenever he would swear upon its existence to his mother, she simply look down at him with a half-tired, half endearing look and tell him that “they” were only imaginary. She didn’t see any need to feel too concerned about it at first, thinking nothing more of it than a short-lived phase that every kid went through at some point in their lives until Dipper began to shut himself in his room more and more as time passed. Whenever she asked what he had been doing, he would always reply from then on that he had been “playing Make-Believe.”

This was about the time Dipper began to learn that it was better to keep things to himself, and nevertheless spoke to the other almost every night, on occasions in the morning or in the day if he had troubles.

The friend was surprisingly nice, it made him wonder if god had really sent them an angel. It also had him wondering if Mabel knew them too. If she did, Dipper would be happy. It was definitely a comforting thought.

Unfortunately, as he grew older, he couldn't find the ‘angel’ anymore and his heart only became heavier with regret as he fell into a deep depression—much like the way a moss would spread over its victim, slowly devouring them whole until they were met with only a world devoid of light. He supposed it was hardly any different from living but then again, it was different for everyone. The only thing that really kept him going was the reassuring thought of seeing Mabel again. Once he was eighteen, he could leave whenever he wanted and no one could stop him from being with her. It had his heart treading on a thin line of hope and his dreams still distinguishable from his many nightmares.

Luckily his wish came true sooner than he'd ever hoped. At the age of fourteen, his mother suddenly told him that they were going to visit his dad. It was strange how she hadn’t mentioned Mabel like she usually did, but he didn't let that bother him and his excitement. His mother had been nervous and skittish throughout the plane and car rides to them, and It made Dipper mildly confused, but he assumed it must've been because she was finally going to see their dad again. They had never formally divorced, oddly enough, but they had faithfully kept their distance for six years. It really had been a long time.

Eventually, Dipper’s excitement to see his twin turned into nervous shivers. Over the course of the last few years, his separation of Mabel had brought on a strong anxiety that he hid underneath a plastic doll façade. Smile when you’re expected to, don’t when it’s something serious. Laugh when prompted, and express exaggerated emotions when one wanted to seem lively. It was skill he had acquired long ago for his mother; It didn’t quite fool her though, but it seemed to do the trick for everyone else. Still, faking a smile had become not only tolerable but an easy reflex once you had done it a million times.

At least now, his trembling was due to something more positive as he was finally going to see her again, his other half. But even so, he wasn't sure how to react. They had been so close when they were kids that he had never really been able to recreate that feeling with anyone, save for his imaginary friend back through those first years of severance.

That got him thinking about the strange, marred memory of it as well. He had come to accept  the fact that his friend had been a desperate attempt at covering the hole Mabel’s detachment had left within him—a sort of childish plea that lead him into a series of vivid recollections of a stranger that he could hardly remember to this day. Sometimes, his fragmented memory of the whole thing would surface again and he would dream of it. Whether it was accurate to his past or a new dream using old tactics altogether was hard to tell, but it still left Dipper disorientated and feeling hollow.

Even now, staring out the window as he was in an excuse to ignore everything, he would think about them and it made him feel like he was missing a piece of himself again. And maybe he was. Maybe he lost his companion because he had lost sight of something within him. Or maybe he just realized he was too old to be dreaming in this way anyway. Whatever it was, he had no way of telling.

 

* * *

 

When they returned back to their old home, Dipper had been the first to scramble out of the car in his haste to reach the front door. On his way, though, he almost tripped, but was able to catch himself before any accidents could truly happen.  Somewhat mortified, he could hear his dad chuckle behind him and call out for him to slow down.

“Easy there, tiger. The door’s not going anywhere.” His dad grinned, helping his mother with the rest of the baggage out of his car. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t refreshing to hear and see his dad again.

But that didn’t stop the light blush from hinting at his cheeks. He could only hope Mabel hadn’t been watching when he had. “Yeah…I know.” Dipper huffed, regaining his composure before walking back to the door, almost petulantly this time just for emphases.

On the car ride home, it had been a bit awkward, mostly for Dipper’s parents as they didn’t know how to approach each other. It got only more puzzling for him when neither of his parents seemed to be mad at each other anymore. He couldn’t even feel the remnants of any past anger left.

When they had arrived in Oakland, he had smiled at the first sight of his dad as he stood casually waiting for them…that was until he remembered _why_ exactly they hadn’t seen him in forever. His smile had quickly vacated the area as he turned to regard his mother apprehensively, who actually seemed to be closer to tears than he would have expected at all. ... _And then_ _the most astonishing thing happened_. It was like something straight out of a movie as his mother seemed to drop all of her things, nearly giving Dipper a damn heart attack, he might add, and running up to the, apparently just as startled, man only a few yards away. They had hugged, his mother had cried, and his dad had consoled her.

Dipper, on the other hand, had almost passed out from the confusion.

He took in deep breaths like his counselor had told him and hunched over slightly with wide-eyes. _In through you nose, out through your mouth. Breathe, Dipper. Breathe…_

 _Okay._ He could breathe again. _Don’t jump to conclusions yet. Maybe they’re just on cool terms now because it’s been a long time. Think of it as a refractory period. They’ve had time to settle their differences and get over them…right?_

The teen wasn’t quite convinced, even by his own spiel, but it was definitely the only thing that made any sense to him at the moment. Yeah, you would think the grudges would still be left, but nope. There wasn’t any hint of hatred in their eyes as they looked at each other a little stunned before hesitantly backing away from one another. You would think they had been separated by force rather than by hate.

As Dipper waited impatiently for his parents to make their way up their doorstep, only then remembering he had no keys to his immense annoyance, memories began to flood Dipper’s mind and he felt slightly overwhelmed by it all. He couldn't imagine what it must've been like for Mabel, walking around this house all these years only to think of the bond that she had ripped away from her. To this day, Dipper himself had no idea of why his parents would do that to them. His mother had treated him well enough, despite his earlier signs of defiance, and he was sure his father had done the same for his sister. They had never been the type to take anything out on their children, so it was a safe assumption to make. He could only ever think that the reason for it was less to separate them and more so that they wouldn't be lonely. Was it selfish? Of course it was, but did he understand? He did. He didn't really agree but... He understood. After all, if he could’ve done the same to himself and Mabel from their parents back then he would have.

That got him wondering what Mabel would be like now. Sure Dipper might've had some...minor problems now, but it was nothing Mabel couldn't fix. Mabel always knew how to cheer him up. He was sure that now he could get past his depression and move forward with her by his side. He was excited to see how she had grown as well. He bet that she was beautiful. She had always been the looker between the two of them, he knew, but he wasn't half bad too look at either, considering they shared almost the exact same face. Nevertheless, it was still obvious to him that she was the pretty one. He didn't mind it though. He didn't need his looks for his sister to love him.

He wondered what her new hobbies would be or how she was doing at school. What classes she had and what friends she had made. He wanted to see her room and let her talk about everything he'd missed in her life from the moment he'd walked out their front door with his mom holding him close by her side. He wanted to relearn her entire personality. He wanted to see her bright smile. He wanted Mabel.

His confusion was evident when the doors had opened to the house and he wasn't greeted by a smiling Mabel. Instead, he was welcomed by an eerie silence that made the house seem empty and devoid of life. He shivered as he felt a draft of cold air waft past him delicately.

There was a sick feeling in his gut, but he didn't pay any mind to it. He'd been feeling like this for years.

As he walked upstairs and looked for the room Mabel and he use to share, he could hear his parents finally burst out into low whispers as they talked about things he didn’t care for enough to listen. They were probably catching up anyway, just as he should be doing with Mabel.

Dipper was told to look for his room, a spare one in the attic, but he didn't listen. He followed the hallway to the end where faint evening light spilled under the last door of the hallway,  just like he’d remembered it. _It’s Mabel's room! Has to be!_ He could recall running down this hall with her and climbing into their bunk beds. Sometimes they'd even share the same bed so they could make a big fort and snuggle under the covers. They would stick glowing constellation stickers to the ceiling and dangle glow in the dark plastic stars so that it would never be too dark in their room. It was mostly done for Dipper, as he had always been one to fear the dark, but Mabel would pretend to dislike it too, insisting on night lights and other things to keep him feeling safe. He remembered how his parents had tried to break him out of it about a year before their separation and the way his sister had defended his honour valiantly.

He felt a small smile etch onto his face at the thought and rubbed at his arm anxiously. Mabel might've fallen asleep early. It could be why she hadn't greeted them at the door or at the airport. He reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it. When he felt that the knob wasn’t locked in place, he quietly opened the door as to not disturb her. He felt mildly rude for intruding, but he just had to see her. He had to see that Mabel was still here for him.

When he managed to push the door open all the way, he felt his smile grow over his face. Mabel was lying peacefully on her now canopy bed with her arms folded in front of her and her chest rising slowly and evenly underneath. Her face was pale, but otherwise pretty and gentle. Her features were soft and her hair had grown even longer, spilling out below her frame in long brown strands. She seemed a bit thin, but otherwise the same.

He could finally see his twin sister.

He had long since dropped his suitcase and bags at her door and swiftly ran to her side, relieved to see that she did not stir. He was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion as he was struck with the urge to touch her and clasp her hand gently, to hold her close until she woke up grumpily in his arms, the way he would in a display of endearment and the way she would after her snoring fest when she was sick and they were kids. He wanted to see the look on her face when she finally saw him and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. He wanted her to act her usual silly self and make his tears go away like no one else could. He couldn’t _wait_ for her to wake up! …That was until he noticed the wires slithering from beneath the covers, snaking all the way up to her arms and body the closer he got in. He could see the unnatural bumps they formed under the fabric and he _knew_ that they weren't wrinkles. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks as his eyes slowly traced the white material back to see it attached to a transparent hospital bag near the back of the bed’s curtains.

He was frozen.

Why did Mabel have...?

Dipper could hear footsteps climbing the stairs and his heart stuttered. What was going on? He panicked, feeling his eyes swell with a wave of fresh tears and his depression kick back into full gear. Shaking his head back weakly, he blinked them away furiously as he made a mad dash to his new room in the attic, hauling his stuff with him. When he reached the top of the stairs, he closed the trap door softly and pinned himself to the ground to listen.

He could hardly hear his parents muffled conversation at first, causing him further distress and to press his face more roughly against the thin wooden floor, but was deeply relieved to hear that their voices were becoming clearer by the second.

"...What did the doctors say?"

There was a pause before he heard his dad whisper, "She might stay like this forever."

Dipper felt the threatening tears prickle the rims of his eyes again and his nose itch. What did he mean "She could stay like this forever"? What was "this"? What was wrong with Mabel? Why was there any mention of a doctor and why were there hospital supplies on Mabel's dresser and bed? What... She couldn't be...

"The door is open?" He heard his dad say as his dangerously treading mind halted.

"Dipper." He jumped at hearing his mother whimper out his name like that. That couldn't be good...

He could hear his dad sigh as footsteps quickened in their pace. It stopped and then there was the thumping sound of a bed mattress weighing down. Dipper flinched as he heard his mother sob quietly and felt his own tears spill onto his face frantically, his vision blurred by them and his mind reeling in quiet hysteria.

He knew what was going on now. Stupid, stupid, him...! He should've known it sounded to good to be true! His mother’s nervous movements, their hushed conversations over the phone... He had been a complete idiot.

"How long has she been like this?" His mother whispered.

"Four and a half years now."

Dipper could hear his mother hold back another sob as she sniffled quietly into something. Dipper himself felt his hand come up to his now searing face as it slid across his forehead down until he was grasping his mouth desperately to keep his own crying inaudible.

 No wonder his mother had been such a wreck this whole trip. No freaken’ wonder Mabel had been an absent topic around him. No wonder they told him to go up without seeing her. Why hadn’t they just told him and got it over with..!?

He banged his head gently against the wall as his tears trailed down his neck and his bangs fell over his face. Slumping down, he pulled his cap over his eyes before grasping his forehead in dreadful realization.

He knew exactly why.

Mabel was in a coma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the official fic for the Gravity Shatters AU. I want to give a special thanks to the people who were interested and who reassured me about my au idea and (and esp. to my son, who beta read it)! If it weren't for you small lot, I probably wouldn't have had the guts to post this online for others to see, so *tackles you all and gives ya'll fatherly nuggies* thanks, saplings!


	2. The Devil Wears A Fez

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter will be a little more light-hearted, y'know...sense the last one was so....eugh, yeah. Haha. Anyway, it will get sadder from time to time though, so prepare to experience a possible emotional rollercoaster for this fic because we have a LOT of ground to cover. o3o

**** After about a half year of assimilating back into his hometown, Dipper had yet to join public school, and instead, had taken up the responsibility of homeschooling himself. He did well enough, considering his mental state, and scored high on all of his exams, but in all honesty, his heart just wasn’t in it. All of that was just another excuse he’d used to bar around himself in order to stay closer to Mabel. He could honestly care less. The only reason he hadn’t dropped out by now was because he didn’t exactly feel like worrying his parents any more than they already were. They would blow a gasket if he dared, probably thinking that he had given up all hope.

But he hadn’t. Not yet anyway.

He bought Mabel flowers on a weekly basis, managing to afford them through the allowance his parents would give him every Sunday. It was a tradition that they had stopped when Dipper and his mom had moved away, and quite frankly, brought back more memories than he would have liked.

Back when he was a kid, he would have used it for something much more frivolous like candy, video games, or just cheap toys that attracted the attention of a curious child, much like himself. Bonus points if the advertising said it involved a lot of thinking. Of course, he tended to spend it mostly on candy since it was something both twins could enjoy. Along with Mabel, he would save it all up for one of their monthly movie nights where they would watch something stupid on T.V. in secret and eat stashes of candy they had hidden behind the backs of their parents. It made for a lot of giggling and semi-heart attacks whenever they heard a creak and thought it was their parents coming to check up on them. But even then, the laughter wouldn’t stop as they hid under the covers of their fort and pretended to be sleeping. If it really was their parents, they usually yawned tiredly and told them, _“Sleeping people don’t giggle”_ before dumbly stalking off to bed themselves. It usually didn’t help and it sure didn’t stop them from sitting back up and turning the living room’s television back on.

Dipper smiled faintly, twirling a petite, pale flower he had found on the side-walk today on his journey to the super market. He really missed those times and wished desperately to return to them.

As he leaned forward to place the flower over Mabel’s covered hands, he got up to change the arrangement in the vase next to her bed with a fresh bouquet, untying the ribbon around the bunch and retying it onto the vase. He tilted his head, looking back at his work in quiet contemplation. It was very Mabel-like alright, but it _did_ lack something…

Humming gently, he walked over to her vanity and opened up one of the drawers. His expression brightened up when he caught sight of an old bottle of glitter, its contents shimmering in flaming pink. The colour was so harsh in fact, that it almost looked like it was bleeding onto his fingers through the reflection of the container. Shaking his head, he made his way back to the vase, dumping a reasonable portion of the bottle’s contents onto the flowers before sealing it up again and returning it back to its rightful place. As he came back again to look at it once more, he nodded. _Definitely something Mabel would approve of._ The batch of plants now looked like something straight out of a fairy tale, something Mabel had always adored when he still knew her. That made him wonder if she still did. His dad hadn’t really talked about any of their experiences before the coma, so Dipper had no clue just how much Mabel had changed in those two years if at all, but Dipper was willing to bet that she hadn’t changed a bit if the room was any indication.

He hoped she hadn’t, anyway.

Settling himself back in his usual seat, he made tiny circles on Mabel’s hand over the sheets before sighing. He really was worrying his parents a lot. Earlier on in his first few weeks, his parents had offered to buy flowers for Mabel in his place, insisting that they would _gladly_ do it as they desperately tried to convince him that they wanted him spending his allowance on something….else. But while their attempts _were_ in vain, they did _not_ escape his conscience. All the same, that didn’t stop him from buying them either... He only ever shook his head grimly in a silent, ‘ _It doesn’t matter,’_ before locking himself back up in his room again. There could be a botanical garden in there and he would still buy his own flowers for her.

Slowly but surely, this was taking its toll on his parents, and eventually, he knew that guilt train was going to end up crashing somewhere.

It didn’t help that Dipper hadn’t made a single friend since his arrival, and he made it painfully obvious that he didn’t plan to make any either. In addition, the teenage boy had practically given up on venturing out into public, almost as if to condemn the sun itself. The only reason he had any colour in his skin at all was due to his parents always sending him off to do his share of daily errands.

As for his dreams, Dipper had none. Or at least…it was on a rare occasion when he did. With sleep deprivation came a lack of REM sleep in his short term cycles, and his worsening depression and unstable anxiety only reinforced that. If he ever managed to close his eyes for a while, he was almost immediately woken up, the longest naps only ever lasting up to an hour and a few minutes before he was up and about again, walking off the disgusting feeling of his fear and irrationality that came with being woken up in beads of sweat and a trembling body. His restless fingers would scour the pages of the only companions he had left, and he would feel the constant need to have his eyes peeled open. Luckily, staying insomniac was something that had become relatively easy; His haunting thoughts were enough to keep him breathless and on his toes.

Things were just fine this way. By day, he was his parents’ studious son, practical shut-in, and the shy neighbour that hardly ever even so much as glanced at anyone, much less make any real or worthwhile contact. But by night…well that was when he really went to work. In the ungodly hours of the morning, Dipper would pace, and read, and weep, and read once more, searching through books like a mad man on the treatment of comas, their causes, their accounts etc. Sometimes he’d even hike back down to his sister’s bedroom and set up camp over his shoulders in the form of an overly stuffed and brightly star-splashed blanket to tend to Mabel’s needs, whether it be un-stiffening her limbs or making sure she didn’t need her ventilator or just simply fluffing up her pillow. Whatever it took to take his mind off of the tragedy in front of his eyes.

It was a routine, a life-style, a way of living that he had grown accustomed to. It was a coping mechanism, and an obsession all the same. As long as he was with Mabel and she was alive, he could stand on two feet. But not even this could remain the same, and he felt like an idiot for thinking that it would.

Eventually, his parents had the audacity to separate Dipper and Mabel again when they told Dipper that this summer he would be travelling to Gravity Falls to meet his great uncle Stanford. But Dipper obviously wasn’t interested in abandoning his sister again, especially not after seeing the state she was in after years of finally returning.

“Isn’t it great? You’ll finally be able to get out of this stuffy ol’ house and into the real world out in the woods, experiencing the beauty of nature with your uncle! He’ll take you out sight-seeing and hiking…it’ll be good for you!” His dad had told him while dragging out his suitcase. He dropped it near his closet and placed his hands on his hips as he looked around his dusty room in obvious interest. It was cluttered with books and “nerd stuff” along with the occasional gaming console he hadn’t really touched in a while and a hoard of collectibles and other older belongings stuffed in boxes that he’d never bothered to open.

“Why would I want to go to some small town in Oregon to meet a relative I didn’t even know existed?” Dipper asked skeptically, cocking his brow and eyeing his parents accusingly. They had to be truly dense to think that he wouldn’t be at all confused by the change in events. Honestly, was this not weird to either of them? Hell, he’d never even heard of a place called “ _Gravity Falls”._ I mean, _come_ _on_. That didn’t even _sound_ like a real town!

His mother was the first to respond as she sat down next to him on the bed and smiled. “Dipper, honey. You need a friend, and I think your great uncle would be a wonderful friend to you. He’s got this nice, quirky, little place that’s always bustling with people.” Dipper felt his gaze waver under his mother’s sad pleading eyes that barely hid behind the false cheeriness and excitement as his hand twisted into the fabric of his bed behind his back. Dipper was silent as she bent forward to pull his bangs back affectionately and plant a kiss on his forehead. “Please, just trust us. It’ll be fun. You deserve a break.”

Dipper inhaled sharply at that. He felt a familiar stab to the chest as his heart seemed to flop and curl in on itself. “No I don’t.” He looked away from her and took a deep breath. “I let Mabel fall into a coma. I don’t deserve anything,” he bit back bitterly, clenching his fists hard enough to leave behind small marks. He could feel his toes curl against the wooden floor.

From the corner of his eye, he could see his dad look up at that as clothes swished at the sudden movement on their racks. He called back to him from inside his closet. “Hey now, sport…” Peeking his head out and pointing wildly to himself, he stopped his snooping. “You didn’t. I did. I was the one right next to her the whole time and yet I couldn’t stop it. If anyone’s to blame…then it’s me!” His dad puffed his chest out stubbornly before diving back in like some…gofer…

“Uhh…d-dad?” Dipper squeaked, wondering why his father was swimming in his clothes. He should’ve been used to his antics like his mother seemed to be but he felt the entire mood just sort of ….dissipate. And shift. Shift into a really strange lump in his throat where he had a laugh stuck and a choke waiting to do some choking. Nope, wait. The one who always over-packed things wasn’t his mom, it had always been his dad. Yeah, that’s right. Mabel definitely inherited her weirdness from their dad.

“Dear, it’s not your fault…it isn’t anyone’s fault. These things just…happen.”

Dipper wasn’t buying that for a second. There was a reason, he just had to find out what it was, and maybe then he could finally work on a cure. He was going to get her back one way or another, even if it killed him.

“Can Mabel come?”

His parents were stunned, even his dad seemed to trip in the closet, catching himself only barely by holding onto a rack as one of Dipper’s old toy balls with glittery confetti inside jumped out, ostentatiously illuminating its way right into a tower of half read books, those of which fell shortly after. Dipper flinched as it hit a couple of other things along the way with a loud **_thump!_** before finally getting stuck in a mound of clothes.

Dipper turned to look back at him in a mixture of disbelief and slight horror, his eyes practically popping.

The man scratched at his arm. “You should really clean this room…here…” he coughed before reverting back to his previous shock. “I mean, _what did you say, young man?_ ”

Ignoring his father, his mother continued. “Dipper…you know she needs to be constantly taken care of and—”

“I don’t care,” he cut in suddenly. His voice softened to an almost whisper. “Please, let her come with me. It’ll reassure me a-and…” he wanted to kick himself for sounding so pathetic and weak. He gulped, trying to control his stuttering and shaky hands. “I promise I’ll look out for her personally. She won’t be missing a thing as long as I’m around.” He said finally, with some resolve this time and a firmness to his tone as he looked back up at them for a response.

Glancing over at each other, they both seemed reluctant, making Dipper increasingly anxious. He could understand why, but he could be trusted. He was different. He was _responsible_.

After some hesitant silence, his dad huffed out a thoughtful sigh. “…I’ll go call your uncle to let him know about the change of plans. He needs to be prepared for Mabel’s visit, after all.” He pursed his lips and hummed his way out of Dipper’s room, leaving a very shocked woman on the bed and a child who was torn between dancing the happiest dance in the world and awkwardly humming out of the room himself.

_Uh oh. Here it comes._

“What!?” the woman finally piped up, turning to whip around back to the empty door frame in utter befuddlement. “Something could happen to her!” Before Dipper could interpret that falsely and become even more solemn than he already was, she turned back to him and caressed his face gently. “It’s not that I don’t believe you won’t try, it’s just that many things could happen and we wouldn’t be there to help you if they did a-and…” His mother was close to tears again and Dipper bumped his forehead softly against hers.

“Then you know how I feel now.”

Through glassy eyes, his mother seemed to be at a loss for words, eyes widening in some small semblance of realization before suddenly engulfing him in her tight embrace. He could feel her tears seep through the fabric of his shirt as he lifted his arms up to hug her back. “Oh, Dipper.” Tilting his head to rest his cheek on her shoulder, he let his willingness to comfort her sooth her. After a few minutes, she gulped back her own worry, pulling away to make eye contact. Dipper’s expression fell as he noticed his mother’s swollen eyes. _She’s been crying a lot lately…_ He rose up to give her an eskimo kiss, which in return made her laugh a tender laugh. Sighing heavily, she poked his rosy nose, knowing full well that they were probably matching now. “I trust you.” She nodded.

That’s the first time Dipper had smiled for someone other than Mabel in months. It was small, but it was something.

“Thank You.”

 

* * *

 

 

Dipper didn’t know what he expected. A charming little place by a lake with little ducklings and cute families all around in a forest of little helpless woodland creatures, maybe. A beautiful resort with a bunch of residents who were either too geeky or too poetic to just give the town a normal name that didn’t make him feel like he would be visiting some kid’s nerdy science fiction convention, he guessed. But this was definitely _not_ it.

He was limp in his spot as he watched his Great Uncle Stan just con a poor old woman out of her money with cheap illusions and distasteful contraptions that really left something to be desired. As he cackled maniacally at the currency shuffling in his hands, Dipper could only wonder how his parents could leave him and Mabel in his care. This guy was like the devil in disguise. One minute, he’s a creepy old man trying to sell his merch to a damn five year-old only to pay him to be quiet about it, and then the next minute, he’s _still_ a creepy old man but now he’s offering you bumper stickers he stole from other trucks at half-price and you’ve apparently only got sixty seconds before the deal’s gone “ _so take it or leave it before I decide to litter these. Are you in or not?”_

Dipper wasn’t so sure he was as proud about convincing his parents into letting Mabel come now and kinda’ wished he had just fought to stay home instead. _Adventures and bonding my ass, this guy’s nuts! They’ll be lucky if we survive till the end of summer..!_ The brunette thought sullenly, flinching as Stanford’s cries could be heard from the cash register.

“Are you a piñata or a damn mannequin?” His grunkle hollered as he stuffed the cash back into the register, chunking a piece of candy at him while he was at it. “’Cause I’m pretty sure the candy’s supposed to be inside you. Now lighten up before you scare off all my customers, Eeyore!”

Dipper snorted before continuing to sweep the area where a kid had been eating crackers in the gift shop. What was the point of a _No food or drinks prohibited_ sign when people ate in here anyway? Another thing he happened to notice was that his Grunkle’s place was plagued with eyes everywhere, only making him more on edge. _It doesn’t help that it feels like they’re always watching me…_ He let out a sigh of relief when the father clock in the back of the shack upstairs chimed twelve o’ clock, releasing him from his hell hole. _Finally, lunch break!_

The brunette perked up, quickly finishing up the area and putting away his supplies back in the storage room. When he opened the door that lead into the more cozy side of the shack, he was abruptly met with a sturdy wall. “Ow! What the…” Sure he was new and all, and he _did_ just get here last night, but he was _pretty_ confident that there had not been a wall here earlier. After all, who would put a door where there was no room? _No wait._ That sounded exactly like something his great uncle would do. His eyes fluttered open. _Didn’t I enter the shop this way?_

“And where do you think you’re going?”

_Shit. A talking wall._

Dipper blinked, staring back at the old guy in front of him sporting that weird looking fez, _seriously, what did it mean?!_ and looked back a little irritated. “What do you mean _where do you think you’re going?_   I’m going to see my twin sister, who’s in a _coma._ She needs me, and you already keep me on a tighter schedule than necessary. Besides, it’s my _lunch break._ ” As Dipper tried pushing past him, he was stopped by a surprisingly gentle hand that was only enough to hold him in place but not scare him.

“You mean Mabel?” When Dipper nodded, the suited man sighed. “Look, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that…”

“About what?” Dipper asked, feeling rather impatient with the whole _what a surprise_ feeling he had been getting a _lot_ lately. He was pretty sure this wouldn’t be any different.

“We’re gonna have to place Mabel in the Gravity Falls Hospital, at least for a while.”

There it was.

_“Excuse me?”_

Stanford was obviously not amused. “You heard me, kid. I know you can’t be _that_ stupid.” He crossed his arms as Dipper’s brain tried and failed to wrap his head around the confession.

“B-but _why?!_ ” he stuttered out inexplicably lost by this sudden confession. “I can take care of her!” It was like the world was _trying_ to rip him apart from Mabel. Curse him for being a minor! Growing up took too long.

Stanford held him by the shoulders as the teen tried scurrying past him anyway, seemingly walking on air as the elder held him fixed in his spot. “Whoa, listen, kid! I just don’t feel comfortable having your sister here while I work. Believe me, it’s best if we just let her rest at the hospital where they can keep constant watch over her.”

Dipper was about to protest when Stan cut back in, almost smacking the finger the brunette had brought up with him.

“…And _YOU_ , mister, are going to be helping me out, so it’s not like you can keep watch _either._ During work hours, you’re a man of mystery, not Nurse Joy. _Capiche?_

“But Grunkle Stan! The hospital is in town, and we live on the _outskirts_ of town! I’d have to at the very least _drive_ over there!”

“Here are my keys.”

The boy stared back dumbly as they were jingled in front of him almost mockingly. “I don’t have a license!!” Dipper screeched, pulling at his bangs frantically.

His great uncle shrugged. “I won’t say anything if you don’t.”

“I can’t _DRIVE_. I’m _FOURTEEN!”_

The old gent pushed his keys back into his pocket. “Nevermind. You are prohibited from coming anywhere near five feet of my keys.”

“Grunkle Stan!”

“Just take the golf cart, kid.” his uncle tried to reason.

Dipper gawked back at him. _What._

“Unless you’d rather walk by foot, yeesh.” Stanford rubbed the back of his neck tiredly.

“You want me to take the golf cart into town? Grunkle Stan, I don’t even think I’m allowed to _do_ that!” The boy pointed out, eyes turning more frantic by the second.

“Bah! You think too much, kid!” walking over to his key rack, he picked up the one for the golf cart. “Besides, everything is legal as long as the cops aren’t around. Remember that.” He gestured to the key in hand, lifting his eye brows up and down playfully before tossing it to Dipper.

Dipper, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure about this. He stood stock still as his great uncle gave him a pat on the shoulder before returning to his work in the Mystery Shack. He spun around slowly, a small frown forming on his face as he listened to him greet the line waiting next to the _”Tour”_ sign, held up by a detached, skeletal hand. He gave out the same cheesy spiel he did at the beginning of every tour, his superficial tone making up one of false grandeur and leaking lies only making him more uneasy.

Dipper huffed, shoving the key into his pocket sullenly. _Well it’s not like I have a choice, now do I?_

Looking up at the stairs that lead to his sister’s temporary room quietly, he decided he’d hold out on seeing her until the night, not exactly keen on going back to work red-faced and puffy-eyed. He brushed off his anxiety and made his way to the back of the shack to test out said golf cart. “Alright, Dipper. You’ve got thirty minutes until the end of your lunch break. …Arguably about 24 now after that disaster but, well, who says you can’t learn how to work the golf cart in that time?” he was careful to not sound as pessimistic as he felt and slipped into the thing. He yelped when he felt his shoe hit something as he tripped over it and onto something bumpy and not at all like cheap metal. His hands slipped over the material before landing harshly against the floor of the golf cart at the sides of…whatever it was that he had just tumbled over.

Getting over his panic and whirling vision, his eyes began to adjust to his surroundings, eyes squinting at something red pooling under him.

_Huh?_

“Wow, you scream like a girl.”

Dipper squeaked as he realized what had just happened. “Wendy!? What are you doing on the floor of the golf cart?!” the brunette’s face lit up into an almost radioactive pink as he scrambled away from her and back up onto his feet off of the cart. “And you just caught me off guard is all…I-I—” he coughed and cleared his throat in utter humiliation. “I don’t usually, uhh, sound like…that.” _Wow, smooth Dipper. Real smooth._ He ignored his inner musings with a shake of his head as he offered the red-head a hand that she took with a sly grin.

“I like to sleep on the job. Don’t tell your uncle though, or else he’ll finally know why I _really_ take long in the “bathroom”.” She explained, making air quotation marks with her fingers. Dipper simply nodded, not really understanding how his uncle could even fall for such a bad lie.

 _Must be a girl thing_ , He thought suddenly.

“Yeah but…why the _golf cart?_ ” he squinted at the direction of said vehicle’s exterior, as if to emphasize how irrational it would be to try. Honestly, how did she not wake up sore allover?

Wendy laughed at his confused expression before waving him off playfully. “I just sleep wherever I can. Sometimes that means the roof, sometimes that means a tree. Other times, I just hitch it out in the golf cart. It’s whatever.” She shrugged, yawning before looking down at her watch. “Aaaand that makes for two quarters of an hour in the bathroom.” She stood there for a bit as if to contemplate whether she could squeeze in some extra free time before she was found out when Soos came tripping out of the shack, a raccoon stuck to his face with Grunkle Stan hot on his heels.

“Stop, drop, and roll, Soos!! You can kill it with your rolling!!!” Stan cried out frustrated as he whacked at his figure with an old-fashioned broom—probably one that was meant more as a prop than anything judging by its poorly done spray-paint job of ugly colours. Soos only seemed to be able to scream in horror as a response before smashing into the old Tiki statue that adorned the Shack’s front lawn.

By now, a crowd had formed— _including Stan’s tour group_ —as the raccoon was temporarily stunned by the hit until it jumped at the sight of the Tiki statue collapsing towards them. It skittered away into the forest with frightened screeches and the large pillar toppled over Soos heavily, causing him to groan. Shortly after, a fire burst out from said statue and Soos began to panic. The crowd was staring with wide-eyes as Stan just squinted harder.

 _I can sell this,_ he thought. Turning around simply to face said crowd, Stan coughed. “Ladies and gentleman, spontaneous combustion!”

The crowd _“Ooooed”_ as Soos squirmed under the mass on top of him in honest terror, his shirt sleeve catching on fire. Meanwhile, Stan was collecting profit from the awed audience.

“Well, that’s my cue to step in,” Wendy said, reappearing with a fire extinguisher, Gompers accompanying her with a cop light flashing over his head like a red light-house. He had a tape recorder hanging over his neck playing the sound of fire fighter trucks in action on repeat.

She casually saluted to a dumb-founded Dipper before rushing back in the direction of the commotion, which by now had escalated into an all-out attack on the shack from the fire as it spread over to the string hanging between the Tiki statue and the Shack’s roof.

Dipper felt like he was forgetting something.

It only got larger from there and began to eat away a hole in the shop's sign overhead as it disintegrated the “S” in the Mystery Shack’s name, leaving behind only the shadowy imprint of its former glory.

Yup…something was _definitely_ eluding him…

As bits of the roof began to collapse, Dipper’s mind finally clicked.

 _Oh, **no**._ “Mabel!!” the boy squawked, flapping his arms to his sides as Stan tapped the Shack furiously with his broom while Wendy made her way around the shack in a perfect 360 degree radius, pulling on a random helmet with Gompers trotting behind her blankly, _“baaah”_ ing every once in a while to the offbeat of wailing sirens. Soos had managed to roll out from under the pillar and was now rolling in grass hysterically, all meanwhile the customers themselves fled out of the gift shop and into their trucks, finally seeming to understand how dangerous and real the whole thing was. This was no trick of the eye or fake drill. The shack was really on _fire._

Seeing as how his Grunkle Stan was _obviously very busy_ at the moment smacking the fire on the shack into w _orse_ condition _―I mean, come on. Who uses a wooden broom to put out a **fire**?_ ―with his horrendous broom, Dipper took it upon himself to save Mabel on his own despite knowing he was equipped with only noodles for limbs.

But as soon as he was about to make his _super badass, Jackie Chan entrance,_ he was stopped by Grunkle Stan again, this time successfully lifting him off the ground like a child. “Let. Me. GO!” Dipper shouted out frantically, kicking wildly for his great uncle to release him, but he did not relinquish his hold one bit. If anything, it only tightened.

“Kid, Mabel’s not even inside the shack anymore!” his grunkle yelled back gruffly, coughing at the smoke escaping the house. “Soos! The hose!!” he hollered back in annoyance.

“On it, dude!” as the man was turning the knob, the hose in Gomper’s mouth began to shoot out with water, frightening the creature and causing him to run around wildly as water sprayed everywhere. Stan was not amused by this turn of events, especially once Wendy returned from extinguishing her half of the fire on the roof.

“Well, at least the shack isn’t burning anymore.” She grinned, holding back a fit of laughter as the end of the string of his fez was on fire. Dipper followed her obvious line of sight and started laughing too despite feeling like Simba in the circle of life in the position Stan was holding him.

“What? What are you two laughing about?!”

“Well, while the shack may no longer be on fire, something else still is,” Dipper sneered, getting a kick out of the look his uncle gave him. This in turn lead him to place Dipper back on the ground in order to take his hat off and scratch his head in puzzlement. “I don’t get it. Did the forest catch fire too?” He turned around grumpily to find that, no, no Smokey the bear here to glare at his insolence. He placed the ridiculous hat back on and the two teens started their chortling again as the fire slowly made its way up to the fez itself, leaving a pile of ashes on the ground where golden string used to be.

“Mr. Pines!” Soos called out then, turning the hose on him suddenly and drenching him in a shower of water. When his Grunkle Stan gave a yelp, and a glare that could probably suck in souls soon after, Soos hid the still dripping hoes behind his back, wide-eyed and terrified. “Uhh, sorry, dude.” He muttered sheepishly.

There was an intense silence, followed by whooping.

“Go Soos!” Wendy praised, pointing at him and then winking.

“Grunkle Stan, he just saved your life!” Dipper cheered childishly, running up to the guy to high five him and picking up the soggy, half eaten fez, that had been knocked off his grunkle's head, on his way to show him.

“GAH! MY HAT!!” Grunkle Stan hollered, observing it in great sorrow as it continued to crumble in between his hands. It was still singing a bit, but at least it was no longer a threat anymore.

“It’ll live,” Dipper laughed, giving his uncle a hearty pat on the shoulder when his face perked up suddenly. “Wait, where exactly _is_ Mabel?”

They all turned to Stan and the old man pursed his lips. “Oh no, I was lying. She’s still in the house.”

Dipper’s jaw dropped and Soos gasped obnoxiously loud. Even Wendy seemed surprised.

“You left Mabel in there!?” Dipper screeched furiously. When Stan nodded, the brunette shot past him, Soos and Wendy falling close behind.

“Oh come on! Her window was open, she’s fine!!” he sighed when he got no response other than a goat chewing on his shoe. “I blame you.” The old man glared accusingly, only earning a bleet from the goat before it tore of a piece of his trousers and hopped away. “Hey!”

The trio came back out with a, fortunately, a-okay Mabel. Luckily she had been located at the back of the house, where the fire had yet to spread.

“That’s it. She’s staying at the hospital,” Dipper agreed crossly.

Stan smiled wryly. “I knew you’d come to you senses, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mwuehuehuehuehue


	3. Check Out My Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this took forever but I've been slayed with bunches of homework and I've been going to the doctor a LOT and *takes in a massive breath* I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY. Well, admittedly, it's kinda funny. *stares at art folder full of wips* Let it be known that i'm the slowest child to ever slow. But anyway, yeah! I hope this chapter is okay?

Dust wafted up to Dipper’s face as plumes were released from the fuzzy and feathery pages of consistent closing and snapping shuts of leather-bounds and hardbacks. He sneezed rather ridiculously for the umpteenth time as his eyes watered with fatigue and drowsiness, eliciting a yawn shortly after. He gave up on trying to be productive when his eyes could only scan the pages in blurry, trembling letters.

He hung his head solemnly, ranking a hand through his hair gently before scruffying the back of it in dull frustration. Why couldn’t he find a cure? No matter where he looked or what he searched, it seemed like the answer was non-existent, or at the very least, eluding him. No doctor, medical book, or research could help him now, and he desperately wished, at times like these, to be more competent. He supposed sitting at his desk trying to fit puzzle pieces where they didn’t belong wouldn’t do him much good, so he got up and plopped himself onto his bed.

Curling up onto his side, he smothered his face into the pillow. The lantern’s warm light offered some semblance of comfort as he felt his eyes water for a different reason. Fingers digging into the soft and musty material hopelessly, Dipper could feel his tears drip into the fabric. _Why is it so hard?_ He thought, clenching his jaw painfully as the familiar sharp pangs of an oncoming headache spurred on from his gentle sobs. It didn’t matter though. Soon, he’d be asleep and the pain would be numb by morning.

He was used to this.

A fragile sigh escaped his lips as his body relaxed into sleep. He knew it probably wouldn’t last very long, but at least it would keep him from crying all night. As long as he didn’t have to hear his daunting thoughts and accusatory ramblings, he could avoid looking at his window’s ledge with ease.

How many times had he looked out his window…he thought about it every night back in his old home with his mother when they were still living New England. He thought of lots of things; observing a moving train from the front, walking into the ocean, sky diving from a ledge…but he never did any of those things because of Mabel. Now…well, now he didn’t know what to do. It was hell before but now his hope was being crushed under the weight of reality. He needed to escape it somehow, and the only thing that he could think of was sleep. Unfortunately, it came by pretty hard with his insomnia, but ever since he moved to Gravity Falls, he found himself sleeping at least a few hours every night, which was progressively increasing in length as the days flew by.

Honestly, it had only been about four days since his arrival, and he could already tell the difference. It was strange, like a blanket of exhaustion that was heavy enough to drift him off into a deep slumber, one that wasn’t even woken up by, what he assumed must’ve been, Stanford picking him up and carrying him off to bed last night as he was fairly certain he had fallen asleep in his sister’s temporary room beside her limp form. Maybe it was something in the air? Or perhaps it was the drowsy and foggy weather they had been having lately? Whatever the reason, his sleep was starting to slowly come back to him.

Mabel had been moved earlier today, which had Dipper in a bout of anxiety as they drove away from the hospital that morning in his grunkle’s shabby car. He stared back at it until it was out of view, wondering when he would be able to return back to see her again. The memory made him snuggle deeper into his pillow.

 _One of these days, I’ll save you,_ he thought to himself encouragingly. … _Until then, wait for me._

* * *

_“Do you think he’s really okay? When he comes home, he just locks himself up in his room.”_

_The man gave her a thoughtful hum. “Mrs. Pines, I don’t know what to tell you, he’s a great student here. Does all of his work, makes excellent grades…I suppose he hasn’t made any friends though…”_

_“Do you think he’s being bullied?”_

_“I already followed him around to test that theory but I didn’t find any signs of it.”_

_His mother was quiet as she leaned onto the counter. She sighed as she rubbed at her temples in stress._

_“What does he do?” the other voice asked in concern._

_“I don’t know..! He just stays locked up for hours on end and then tells me he was playing make believe! Is that normal for kids?”_

_“All I can think of is that he’s lonely, Mrs. Pines… Kids can often make someone up when they have no one else to turn to. After all, he hardly says a word at school, so I’m not surprised. The kids aren’t very interested in him either. He’s always so serious here, and it scares everyone off. I suggest that you take him to a therapist before he becomes depressed too if he isn’t already.”_

_“He seems a bit too young for that, don’t you think?”_

_“If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”_

_There was a sigh. “…I’ll see what I can do.”_

_“Good.”_

_“Well…thank you for your help. I’ll try to figure out what’s wrong and call you back when I do.”_

_Dipper trembled behind the door as his mother spoke with his teacher on the phone. What’s wrong? He clenched his teeth. She was implying that something w_ as _wrong. Wrong with **him**_. _He felt his eyes sting and ran up to his room, quietly shutting the door behind himself._

_Tripping over to his dresser, he reached out desperately for his mirror, the glass shining brilliantly as it glimmered his misery painted face back perfectly. He relaxed, feeling better already with the familiar cool material in his hands. The silver was beautiful and it was always so icy to the touch. He liked it though. It was distracting and soothing all at once. His mother had discovered the masterly crafted piece once and asked him where he got it. He told her that he had found it here under some old stuff, but it was a lie. This was a gift from the one friend he could always count on._

_Friend…he was the only one. But he was all that he needed._

_Licking his lips, he prayed for an answer. “Hey…are you there?”_

_He continued to wait expectantly, a small, tentative smile on his face as he imagined its surface rippling in shining blue. …But when the seconds ticked by and nothing happened, he tapped the mirror carefully, not wanting to get a single scratch on it._

_“H-hello?”_

_Still no response._

_He hesitated then. “I need you,” he said tenderly, waiting with bated breath. “Can you hear me?”_

_Dipper was confused. Usually, with this mirror, he got a pretty immediate response. Sometimes it took a while, but there was always a sign that told him he’d been heard. He could feel it somehow…a small warmth, a warmth he often associated with being embarrassed. He wasn’t sure whether it was an embarrassment concomitant with the silly feeling of speaking to an inanimate mirror or if it had to do with the way his heart would beat faster, but whatever it was, it was gone now. Instead, he was left with an empty feeling instead. Closing his eyes to keep the tears at bay, he cracked them open to see a fissure in the mirror. Had that been there before..?_

_“Oh no!” Dipper panicked, thinking he might’ve tapped the delicate piece too hard, but stopped when he heard it emit a small scratching noise._

_The glass was cracking on its own, and a feeling of dread overcame him. Startled by the mysterious and sudden action of the mirror, he dropped it, a yelp escaping his lips as it shattered completely._

_What did you **do**?! His mind screeched, causing a shiver to run up his spine. Something was definitely not right. He could feel it in the freezing of his bones. It felt like something was crystallizing them. Did something happen to him...?_

_Picking up the broken glass frantically, he winced as it dug into his fingers sharply. He ignored the burning and the small trails of blood trickling down his fingers as he tried placing them back together. He already knew it was hopeless but did it anyway, unwilling to give up so soon._

_Once they were all in place again, Dipper tried once more, fumbling with his shirt to wipe off the blood on his hands. “P-please tell m-me you’re still there…”he whispered softly, not wanting to alert his mother further. He was pretty sure she had heard the commotion already, but he didn’t care. Water was filling down his cheeks now. “You’re all I have right now and…I think I’m losing my mind.” He continued, hearing his mother coming up the stairs. Luckily, he always made a habit of locking his door. “Please..! Talk to me!” he cried desperately now._

_It was useless, he knew that. But maybe, no matter how little the chance, he could hear him and come for him._

_“Dipper? Are you okay? I heard something break…” his mother’s worried voice carried through, making the boy’s head whip back to see the shadow of her feet under the crevice of his door._

_He struggled for a response and she knocked on the door gently. “Dipper?”_

_Not a single word would make it past his quivering lips as he bit them uselessly. Instead, he opted for hiding under the covers and feigning sleep. He dragged the smashed article with him before climbing inside, hands shakily pulling the comforter over his head as his mother worked the lock with her house keys._

_By the time she had opened it, Dipper was already a lump in his bed, hidden from view and slowly breathing. It took a lot of work, but the child managed to stop from hyperventilating, if only to fool his mother._

_The door creaked slowly as she began to close it again, wonder clouding the woman’s mind as she made sure not to disturb her son. “Huh, I guess I just heard it then…” Before the door could close completely, though, his mother whispered, “Good night, Dipper.”_

_There was a soft click of assurance, and the boy’s body gave in then. He sobbed quietly, clenching the mirror in his hand stubbornly, unwilling to let go of the one thing that had kept him sane for so long. How would he cope without it?_

_He clenched his teeth. He wouldn’t._

* * *

 

Dipper shot up in bed, shock in his eyes as his dream vividly repeated itself in his mind.

_Dream…? Or memory._

He trembled in a tangle of sheets, sweat cascading down his back and from his hairline in beads that chilled to his very core with the morning air drafting in through his window. He felt raw with emotion as his logic had yet to fully take over. His eyes were gleaming in guilt and his cheeks were aflame with apprehension.

His arm uncoordinatedly made its way to fumble with the lantern screw, turning it off and almost knocking it off the table in the meantime. He noticed the clock beaming a bright red _6 o’clock_  as he turned over his side.

_I slept for four hours…no wonder I dreamed…_

He sat up and rubbed at his damp face with his shirt. He wrinkled his nose at the feeling of his nerves crawling all over him uncomfortably, as if they were jumbling up, and stood up, throwing his shirt off in one fluid moment. He needed to shower.

The moment he opened the door, though, a blinding light spilled in, casting a shadow from the far end of the hallway. Dipper could feel his bleary eye sight burn straight through his headache, reactivating it with full force. _So much for that sleeping numbness._ He made a small whining sound and covered his face with an arm, groaning.

“Mornin’, zombie. Need some brains to go with those graceful movements?” The old gent did him the favour of turning off the hall light, in which Dipper was about to thank him for before he decided he _didn’t_ want to be a saint and instead started flashing the light like a damn five year old, laughing like a maniac as he did it and slapping his knee.

Dipper staggered back like he was being shot at. “Grunkle Stan!!” the teenager wailed, grasping the edge of his door and contemplating shutting him and his psychopathic tendencies out when Stanford stopped, coughing roughly. He almost choked on said coughing before pounding his chest harshly and regaining his composure. The brunette was about to make sure he was okay when a part of him realized it was probably just karma at work. _He doesn’t need my help. I’ll probably just end up regretting it anyway._ Releasing one last wheeze, his grunkle coughed out a, “Worth it!” and Dipper looked back unamused. _Of course._

“Good morning to you too, buttwipe.” He responded crossly, refraining from actually cursing before stumbling into a wall where he thought the doorframe would be. “Ow!” He peeled himself off it and rubbed his nose carefully. Making sure to give his grunkle one last accusatory glare, he departed once more, making sure to not hit anything on his way this time.

His grunkle crossed his arms and tapped the door to the bathroom as it was shut in his face. “That’s _Mr._ Buttwipe, to you.”

Shaking his head, Dipper walked into the bathroom smiling. He sat at the edge of the tub before turning both knobs into a temperate setting. Once he felt the icy water gradually heat up, he dropped the rest of his clothing and stepped in, placing a hand against the wall in front of him for support. The water seemed to rinse away his anxious nerves in a soothing rain. It prickled just at the nape of his neck, splashing bits of water onto his eyelashes. He blinked them away as the water that made it to his front raked down his dry torso uncomfortably, like light, ghostly fingers.

Dipper sighed as the warm water seeped into the upper layers of his skin. Still feeling uneasy though, his mind continued to drift off into the thoughts he’d been having since his arrival. This whole town was weird, no doubt, and he couldn’t help but feel as if he was being…watched. It wasn’t just those eerie, conveniently placed eyes all over the shack, either. He felt as if though he had just stepped on a chess board as a pawn, only following a delusional sense of free will that was really unavoidable. Like a written script if you will, playing his part up until the very end. It was a silly thought, though. I mean, what role could _he_ possibly have?

Turning off the water to start soaping himself up like a snowman, he felt something strange. It was the odd feeling of having someone stand behind you. You couldn’t see it, of course, but there was this sort of bareness to it that made you feel exposed. …Er, well, he supposed he _was_ as exposed as they came—seeing as he was in the damn _shower_ —but this feeling made him feel _especially_ exposed!

Dipper squinted as his logic came into play. _There’s no way someone’s behind you. The only two people in this house right now are you and Stan, and you can clearly hear him watching a soap opera down stairs…wait, what? Grunkle Stan watches_ _—???_ There was a whack at the back of his knee. It was so sudden that he managed to let out a manly cry of distress before slipping to his doom.

“WHAT THE—!?!?” Dipper gripped the closest thing—which just happened to be the curtains—before he could crash and burn, causing the rings to screech hysterically as Dipper swung outward, almost landing face first into the shower matt. Thankfully, with the help of the curtains and the edge of the tub, he stopped before he could break his nose or ribs. With a sigh of relief, he was about to regain his balance when the soap on his hands gave in to the already slick material and made him yelp as he slipped down the next few inches into the tub’s side. With a pained grunt and heavy breathing, he scrambled up, whipping all around to try and see _what the fuck had just happened._ “Well that could’ve gone worse…” he admitted somewhat embarrassedly. The brunette became speechless as he saw not a single damn thing near his vicinity. With a gulp that filled him with a tinsy bit of determination, he peeked out of the closed shower curtains, as he didn’t get a good look during his fall.

Surprisingly, there was still nothing.

_You’re going crazy, kid._

“No friggin’ way…” Dipper whispered as Stan’s voice echoed in his head. He remembered how he had mentioned seeing a rock sprout legs and walk away. He gaped for so long that eventually Stan caved and asked what had happened. Dipper was too stupefied to realize that his grunkle would obviously reject his witness account and come to the conclusion that he was going nuts. Dipper had started to accept  the theory that maybe he was hallucinating due to the lack of sleep but this? There was no way he was having muscle spasms or something. Even that would’ve made more sense. But no. _Oh_ no. This was something concrete. He felt its sharp and precise hit, and it was definitely not an internal one.

He scanned the entire bathroom one last time before suspiciously leaning back into the tub, his heels falling back to the ground until— ** _BAM!_**

“ _FUCK!”_ Dipper gave up playing the good guy when he felt the soap bar under _both fucking heels_ —and mind you, there was only _one_ box of soap opened at the time—before getting up angrily, huffing damp, curly hair from his face as soap got into his mouth. He tried spitting that out too but it was already too late; the horrendous taste was now settling into his taste buds. _Alright that’s it!_ “Show you’re self!!” Dipper growled, all fear out of the way by now, leaving only pure, unadulterated anger behind in its wake.

He expected a lot of things in his attempt at trying to prepare himself for anything, no matter how ridiculous, but apparently he didn’t think ridiculous enough because the small tap on his shoulder felt like a damn butterfly had just touched him. Whipping about, he felt his cheek get pulled on harshly, like some cartoon grandma would at the sight of her grandkids. He blinked stupidly in the direction of the pain to see a beautiful, tiny girl glowing brightly by him, a sweet smile on her iridescent face as it lured him to the edge of the tub. When his leg finally hit, he went tumbling out like a hurricane.

A fuckin’ _fairy!?!_

“GRUNKLE STAN!!” Dipper hollered, frantically trying to get up to catch his play mate. A play mate that was _extremely **strong**_ for her size, he might add, so much so that the teenager had to actually take a moment to rub at the throbbing ache in his cheek. “Ow! What was that for??” he glared daggers in her direction, until he realized that there was nothing there. “Huh?” Dipper was about to turn his head around when he was brought up to his feet. Scratch that, he was _floating by the chin_ as frikken’ Miss Sparkle Pants here dragged his ass up for a good sucker punch. He gave a grunt and moved his jaw carefully. _Where the hell was grunkle Stan??_ “Grunkle Stan! I could really use your help right about now!!” he yelped as he dodged another one of her freakish punches. _Were they really in a fist fight now?!_

Meanwhile, Stanford was on the edge of his seat, nearing the midseason finale as the small maid defied her master in favour of chasing her dreams. “YES, CONSUELA! DROP THAT MIC GOOD AND HARD!!” Stanford cried, dropping his popcorn to stand up and whoop loudly.

Upstairs, Dipper was currently trying to wrestle the fairy off of him, her little hands choking him as she evaded his hands expertly. _Damn, she was so tiny!!_ Gritting his teeth, he decided trying to capture her unharmed was going to need a good plan. He couldn’t squash her little body, after all— _no matter how bad the little voice in his head told him to_. No, he needed her for evidence!

Suddenly, she threw him to the wall and pinned his hands with her magic. Dipper gawked. “What!? Hey! I’m pretty sure that’s cheating!!” He called judgmentally.

The fairy didn’t seem to think so, though, as she flew straight to his tummy, causing him to spit in a bout of laughter. “H-Hey! Stop that, you!! It crawled over him as if in search of something, and Dipper, in horror, realized that she wasn’t gonna stop until she found it. But what did he have? He was in the _nude, for god’s sake_. And to top it all off, the young adolescent was as ticklish as the came! “P-p-please!!” Dipper begged as it worked around his legs. When it came near his nether regions, he immediately kicked his legs up onto the wall for comfort, blocking off the entire area as he drew his knees up to cover himself in front too. “GRUNKLE STAN!!” Dipper screamed, tears now in his eyes from both the laughter and terror of the situation.

The old gent was now sitting right in front of the television, leaning in hypnotically to the dramatic moment that was now on screen…Well, that was always on the screen. Drama was about the only thing soap operas had, really. But that didn’t seem to keep his grunkle from being interested nonetheless. “Shhh, kid! Consuela is about to face her arch nemesis, the feather duster! This is the moment everyone’s been waiting for.” he yelled back simply, eyes never leaving the screen.

“Nos encontramos de nuevo, plumero…mi amigo veijo.”[i] The small maid recited automatically, her stern eyes falling on a limp feather duster on the table ahead. The music playing in the background was a bit too loud for the dialogue in the show, but that was pretty common among soap operas. It added a sort of overdone intensity that was outmatched by every other genre. Grunkle Stan seemed to like it anyway.

Dipper had managed to slip from his magical braces after the embarrassing, and very _thorough_ search he just had. The fairy seemed frustrated, and Dipper couldn’t understand how she could have expected anything else. He was naked. Was that not clear enough for her?! As she made her way up to his shoulders, Dipper cashed in his secret then, revealing his free reign and stumbling back to the door. She zipped towards him and the teenager did the first thing he thought of doing, which was roll his towel on the rack up and aim it at her. She of course, dodged it though.

“WHY ARE YOU FIGHTING ME?!?!” Dipper screeched as they fought mano a mano with…Oh come _on!!_ He picked up a damn toothbrush this time??? In her hand was a flippin’ _razor_. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He was left breathless as she smacked the blue and green dinosaur toothbrush out of his hand. _“_ _Goddammit_ , that was a nice toothbrush too! Straight from home, actually…” Dipper pouted as she cornered him back into the tub with her manly razor. The brunette played along, putting his hands up and everything until they reached the edge of the tub, where he picked up the soap bar and threw it at her. She narrowly missed it, making Dipper bark out an, “Aha!” until she came at him again with the unholy sword of beards in hand. This was about the time Mabel would’ve probably made a terrible pun, like _Look! It’s the legendary, Excalib **hair**!!_ But when there was a deranged and glittery sprite swishing it at you murderously, it kinda’ sorta’lost its humour completely.

“Holy shit!!” He turned frantically to turn on the shower nozzle before fixing it in her direction. She was stunned as the water poured straight onto her and caused her wings to falter. She hit the floor hard, rubbing at her behind and giving him a nasty look that said he would regret what he had just done. Dipper didn’t seem to mind though as he ignored it and began to laugh childishly. “Yeah! Who’s winning no—WAH, OOF!!” the brunette landed on his hindquarters as he slipped onto the now slick floor, seeming to forget that he had just sprayed it with water. He looked just about 100% done as the fairy crossed her arms back at him, a smug look on her face.

“Yeah, yeah. Shaddap, Tink.” He mumbled, looking away. Her guard was down as well.

_Now’s your chance! Grab her!!_

But just as Dipper was about to capture her, Grunkle Stan came busting in, a frying pan in hand and the other on his hip. “What’s happening? I’ve got approximately fifty six seconds before commercials are over.”

The teen was gawking as the fairy seemed just about ready to take flight again when **_WHACK!_**

His grunkle had just batted a fairy out the window into oblivion and didn’t seem all that concerned about it. The hole in the window, about the size of a tennis ball, left a strong gust of air rushing in and dipper curled in on himself, the ice cold water on the ground freezing his petuna off.

“Wow, you really wrecked this place over a goddam firefly. Do you have entomophobia?”

Dipper’s jaw went slack. _A firefly?_ “G-grunkle Stan, did you not see—???”

The usual five second tune that played intermission before the next part of the episode began and his grunkle tailed it out of there before the young boy could even finish his inquiry. “Hold that thought, junior! Little maid waits for no man!!” Dipper groaned in defeat as he rolled back into the tub, flopping over the edge and lying on his back. _So close._

 

* * *

 

“Teach me how to drive.”

After debating internally with himself on how he was going to commute to and back from the hospital, Dipper decided that driving would be the best option. It was quick, and he’d have a better chance at outrunning the cops than if he tried to turbo it outta’ there in a freaken’ golf cart.

His grunkle seemed to agree. “Now that’s the spirit!” He coughed, “But you’re starting in the golf cart.”

Dipper groaned for a thousand years.

“Hey,” his grunkle defended fervently. “If you can drive a golf cart, then you can drive a car.”

Dipper looked thoughtful about that. “…Isn’t it the other way around?” he looked confused now.

Stanford waved him off. “Tomato tomahto! Same difference.”

The teen was starting to rethink his decision already.

 

* * *

 

Grunkle Stan was sitting at the kitchen table sipping his morning coffee and reading the newspaper the way he did routinely, his glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose. Once Dipper had located the golf cart and shuffled out his keys, Stan began his instruction, his voice carrying through the open window. “Okay, so get in the cart.”

Dipper did as he was told. “Okay…”

“And just…y’know. Drive in circles around the shack or something,” he said before shoving some toast into his mouth.

“Grunkle Stan, shouldn’t you be in the cart with me?” the brunette said uneasily.

“Nah, trust me, kid. It’s better this way. _This_ way, I can monitor your progress!” His great uncle reassured through his chewing. His gaze, though, remained glued to its spot.

“Stan, your eyes haven’t left the paper once.” Dipper accused pointedly.

“Peripheral vision, kid. It’s a thing. Look it up.” His great uncle countered, only making Dipper more frustrated.

“Hmmph.” He’d just have to do this on his own then. That wasn’t anything new. He always figured out things on his own, and he could definitely figure out how to work this piece of junk too. No way was Dipper Pines going to get stumped by a damn _golf cart_.

Pressing onto the pedal semi-confidently, he grinned wryly. _See? Easy peas_ _—_ “WAH!!”

Dipper rocketed off into the forest and Stanford sighed.

“ _SOOS!_ What did I tell you and Wendy about pimping out my golf cart?!”

The young man was walking up to the porch, seeing as how he had just arrived, and seemed confused until his boss called him out on his ventures in upgrading ordinary equipment. “Uhh…To not to?”

The old gent simply scowled. “Get my nephew back here before he kills something and fix the golf cart while you’re at it too.”

Soos wilted like a scolded puppy. “Okay, Mr. Pines…”

Wendy arrived shortly after and seemed pleased that Dipper was ramming into everything uncontrollably. “Now that’s how I like to start my mornings. Whoo! Go Dipper! Hit that sign to the ground!!” she called out to him enthusiastically, making hand gestures wildly.

The brunette, on the other hand, was screeching in horror, “SAvE mE!!” before he leapt into the bottomless pit and his screams became inaudible.

“Oh.” _Well that can’t be good._

The three others simply stared at this point, Soos seeming the most worried as he wondered if he was gonna get fired for killing Stan’s great nephew.

“Has anyone been down there before?” Stan squinted, not really concerned yet.

“Nope,” Wendy confirmed.

“…D-do you think he’s coming back, dudes?” Soos asked concerned.

“Well if he is, I’m not wasting a call on the cops. I’ve got a false reputation to withhold.”

Wendy whistled. “Cold blooded.”

 

* * *

 

Eventually, Dipper did come back, and apparently, in real time, he had only been gone for a few seconds. It was as if time spent in the bottomless pit was non-existent. What felt like hours to him was ostensibly nothing in the real world. _Great_.

On the bright side of things, at least that meant he wouldn’t be too far behind his schedule.

Once Soos had removed the golf cart’s upgrades—much to Wendy’s disapproval—Dipper decided to test it out again. To his delight, it was much easier to control this time, and _much_ slower, almost annoyingly so. But it was far better than crashing and burning at every turn.

“Well, I’m…uhh…off?” Dipper called back to the shack uncertainly. He felt so awkward taking the damn thing to town but it was about the best choice he had at the moment. He supposed a taxi would work but Stan wasn’t gonna let Dipper waste his money on something as wasteful as that when they had a _perfectly good golf cart_. The condition, of course, was that he be back in time for his shift, which started later around nine, so he had a little over an hour to go visit Mabel. And while his great uncle didn’t really understand the point of him going to visit his twin every day, he let him do it without much of a fuss, and for that, Dipper was grateful.

He could hear the old man messing around in the house through his open window as he got ready to open up the gift shop an hour before tours. “Remember what I told you. No messing around with the townsfolk, alright? They’re all nuts! A guy tries to give you a coupon for a half priced car? Take it and burn it. Got it?”

Dipper furrowed his brows but grinned, shaking his head. “Got it.”

As predicted, it took him a while to get to the Gravity Falls hospital, but he got there fairly easily. At eight in the morning, it was still relatively quiet in the small town. Slipping in through the large front doors, Dipper signed in at the front desk and went to the second floor of the small building. There, he stopped at his sister’s room. To his relief, she was just as they had left her, and most importantly, alive and breathing. The flowers on the table next to her were still fresh from yesterday, reminding him to buy some more at the end of the week. As he took a seat next to her, he smiled his usual sad smile and greeted her. “Hey, Mabes. I still miss you,” he explained, taking her hand into his. It was freezing, so he took the other too and started rubbing them gently against his warm ones.

“Grunkle Stan tried to teach me how to drive today. Unfortunately, I have to learn how to use the golf cart first. At least it’s easy, but Soos and Wendy had messed with it earlier and turned it into this…like, race cart instead. So at first, it wasn’t so easy…” he laughed. “Gave me the biggest scare of my life,” he continued, feeling her hands warm up a little. She was starting to feel more like she was actually living. “Well…” he sighed, leaning down to touch his forehead against her hands suddenly. “…not including the time I figured out that you were…y’know…”

Her face remained peacefully indifferent to his suffering, making Dipper feel slightly lonely. “And there’s this other thing too…I’m starting to dream again. It’s a bit unsettling, to say the least.” Feeling reassured by her steady breathing, he continued. “I’m not sure if it’s real or not, but I keep dreaming of a mysterious figure. But every time I do, it’s set at a time where I was a kid and away from you.” Dipper felt weird talking about it, but he hadn’t told anyone else about his dreams before and he felt like he should at least tell someone. Mabel was the obvious choice for this. “This morning, I had an especially vivid one…”

The young adolescent tried to think of what else she had missed and perked up suddenly. “Oh! And you wouldn’t believe it, but I totally got into a fist fight with a fairy! Weird, huh?” he chuckled. “But then Grunkle Stan smashed her outta’ the window before I could use her as evidence…He didn’t even notice it was a fairy,” he explained grumpily, resting his head on his hand. “I bet you didn’t know our great uncle was a fan of novellas either,” Dipper hummed, giving Mabel a small mischievous smile.

He rubbed at his arm tiredly. Checking the clock on her stand, he noticed it was already half past eight, and it took him about fifteen minutes to drive back to the shack in the golf cart. Another fifteen to get ready for tours. Unfortunately, he was on tour duty today, so he couldn’t squeeze in the extra minutes.

“Well, I’ll see you again tomorrow, Mabel. I hope you wake up soon.” Reaching up to push her bangs back and kiss her forehead, he stepped back. He felt empty, and he didn’t feel like leaving her behind like this, especially of his own volition, but he didn’t feel like getting grounded either. Looking back one last time, he headed out, hoping to god no one had been stupid enough to steal his stupid golf cart.

Sure enough, it was still there, parked at the side of the street. Sliding into the driver’s spot, he placed the key into ignition and was about to go in reverse when he heard an unfamiliar laughing.

Turning slowly, Dipper saw a bleach blonde girl standing behind him on the sidewalk, her entire being giving him a bad vibe. “Nice ride ya got there.” She snickered, looking down at his transportation with obvious amusement. She was being followed by two burly men clad in black suits and shades, both of whom were carrying multiple bags from various expensive shops. She herself was dressed in only the nicest clothes he’d ever seen, the logo on her shirt being that of one of the most prestigious.

 _Great. Snobby rich kid. My favourite kind of person._ Dipper had two options; one, pick a fight with a powerful opponent who probably had ridiculously strong connections, or two, take it like a man, and leave with what little pride he had left. Now, Dipper liked to think that he wasn’t a violent person, but rather, compassionate and forgiving. Of course, it also depended on the person, but he was smarter than this. Of _course_ he would spare her. He wasn’t gonna risk being late to work. _No matter how bad he wanted to flick her off._ Besides, it’s not like he had good odds when against three other people. He wasn’t, sadly, Jackie Chan, even if sometimes he liked to pretend that he was.

Keeping that in mind, the brunette just gritted his teeth and ignored her haughty laughter as he drove off…very slowly. _Damn, I can still hear her stupid chortling. C’mon golf cart, you can go faster than this._

By the time he had made it onto the road that lead back to the shack, Dipper was flushed with mortification.

He sighed. _I’m going to think about this exact moment for the rest of the day now…_ Dipper thought begrudgingly, feeling like his embarrassment would never fade as the wheels to the golf cart squealed lamely with him.

 

* * *

 

[i] “We meet again, feather duster…my old friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed that my chapters are progressively getting longer...welp! so much for consistency. o3o  
> Also, quess what song I played the entire time I wrote the fairy fight scene?  
> *cough cough* I can't feel my face by The Weeknd *cough*


	4. It's The Thought That Counts...Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola, compadrés. I am back from Mexico and have good wifi again!

 

“What happened to you three? You guys look wrecked.”

Wendy had walked in on Grunkle Stan, Dipper, and Soos sluggishly eating their breakfast at the dining table in Stan’s modest kitchen. All of them sported dark bags under their eyes and all three, as if on cue, yawned consequently. They were acting like the kids at her school often did right after the first bell rung and everyone was still fresh from sleep. In other words, like some old, 90’s cartoon.

As Stan was having trouble locating his spoon for his cereal and Dipper started to doze off, Soos took the liberty to respond, giving one last rub at his eyes before speaking up. “We stayed up late last night trying to teach this little dude to drive, but…” He yawned again, stretching in the process. “It didn’t really happen.” He supplied helpfully, eyes seemingly in a trance as he looked straight past her.

Wendy frowned, rubbing her chin thoughtfully as she regarded them. Her eyes glanced briefly down at Dipper, who was, by now, fast asleep on his hand. When Stan drunkenly swayed in the teen’s direction, they collided and were both suddenly wide-awake. The elder Pines muttered a loud  _“I’ve got a shotgun!”_ and Dipper only yelped as his chair slipped backwards.

When he noticed what had happened, he sighed and blushed in embarrassment. That was until Stanford thought his little “ _slip up”_  amusing and laughed mischievously down at the younger Pines, making Dipper glower back at his great uncle in return.

Eventually, Stan relented with an unamused frown and helped the teen back up with a grunt and shake of his head. “Alright, alright, I’ve got you. Now stop giving me the stare of death down there.”

The ginger turned away from the two with a small laugh and looked back to Soos with a wide grin, her eyes glowing with nostalgia. “I remember when I first started to learn how to drive. I went all out and hit that gas pedal real hard.” She laughed, recalling how frightened her dad had been the entire time. Despite his looks, Manly Dan was a relatively safe and slow driver who honoured speed limits. Well…that was until you pushed his buttons of course, like insulting his favourite boy band, Sevral’Timez. She almost snorted at the thought. “That was kinda’ my weak point, I guess. I always wanted to speed.” she admitted sheepishly.

Dipper sighed, reaching out blindly for the cereal box of frosted corn flakes until Soos nudged the box into his hand. “…Maybe I’m just not cut out for this sort of thing, y’know?” With a dejected look, the brunette slumped slightly and leaned over his cereal miserably.

Dipper had stayed up all night trying to learn how to work the damn vehicle, but when his anxiety had shot up, his grunkle had to intervene and lean forward to pull the key out of ignition before he had the chance to kill them all. He couldn’t risk that. After all, Soos was in the car—because he insisted on giving the teen moral support—and what a damn shame it would be to lose his permanent number one employee of the month. Soos was a good handy man, giving him a heart attack would be a waste of a good worker (and money…).

Nonetheless, Dipper had been right. Golf carting it ‘till you made it was just a backwards phrase Stan liked to use on him, and it did _not_ hold any truth to it.

Wendy gave him a reassuring smile. “Hey there, you’ll get the hang of it. It’s really not so hard, you just gotta keep at it is all.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Dipper. At least you’ll always have the golf cart!” Soos agreed optimistically.

Wendy choked on a laugh when the brunette immediately deflated again. She elbowed Soos, earning a surprised,  _“OW”_ before whispering, “Not helping, Soos.”

The handy man looked confused when Stan cleared his throat.

“Well, either way, it doesn’t matter.” He responded gruffly, a sudden air of authority coming over him. “You’re on cashier duty today so you’ll be opening up the gift shop in ten.”

“But Grunkle Stan, what about Mabe—?”   

“No buts, kid. You can always go see her later. Now hurry up and eat your breakfast.”

Dipper huffed as he started shoving the grainy stuff into his mouth grumpily, his great uncle, in the meantime, ignoring all the peeved looks he shot his way. As he got up to place his finished bowl back into the sink, he reached for his brown star cap off the counter and headed towards the gift shop sullenly. When the door was shut firmly behind him, there was suddenly a very uncomfortable silence.

Wendy and Soos were about to sneak out to work as well when Stanford clapped his hands together loudly, making both workers jump in unison.

“Well! It looks like it’s time for me to do what I do best!” The other two workers exchanged looks of confusion as the elder man shot them a mischievous look.

“Scam people?” Soos suggested.

“Yea—No! The  _other_  thing I do best!” Stan grunted.

“Ruin people’s lives!” Wendy yelled excitedly.

Stanford paused on that one. Humming thoughtfully and tilting his head to the side, he nodded. “Eh, close enough!” he shrugged, suddenly giving the two a knowing smirk. "And you two are gonna help me do it."

“YEAH!!” They cheered, high-fiving each other.

 

* * *

 

It had been a very long, and _very_ slow work day, and all Dipper Pines wanted to do now was go visit his ill sister in the hospital for a good while. Just the thought of seeing her made him feel a lot better… That was until he thought of how exactly he was going to go on about it. He dreaded driving in the golf cart. Seven times outta’ ten, someone would laugh at him, and if he was _really_ unlucky, it would be that stupid rich kid who liked to publicly call him out simply for the sake of humiliating him. Like the time she caught him in the flower shop and accused him of being a pansy. He had decided to shop for Mabel’s flowers more carefully from then on and even picked them off the side of the road sometimes now.

More often than not, though, everyone just stared, while others tried to at least be discreet in their laughter. That was exactly why he hated visiting the hospital during busy hours; everyone was there to witness him and his stupid cart. But on his way to the golf cart, he was stopped by his great uncle calling out to him.

“Hey! Dipper!”

The adolescent held in a resentful sigh as he turned to regard him. The elder Pines trotted up to him with a knowing smile, and instantly, he had gotten a bad feeling and wasn’t afraid to show it through his grimace. After all, if his great uncle was smiling, that could only mean one of two things. Either he had done something wrong, or Dipper had messed up, and as far as he could tell, he hadn’t done the latter. But as he was about to ask him what he’d done this time, his grunkle intervened.

“I got you a present.” He said simply, a capricious look suddenly showering over his features.

 _What?_ Dipper could hardly believe it.  _Stan? Get him a present?_   _Mr. “I’m-not-wasting-money-on-the-damn-hole-in-the-roof-because-it-can-fix-itself”? Yeah, I don’t think so._ “Really?” the brunette asked skeptically.

“I’m serious, kiddo. Plan B to you sucking at everything.”

Dipper was not amused. “Grunkle Stan…” he warned. He was really not in the mood for more of his great uncle’s lectures. After all, having to put up with indecisive customers and obnoxious children all day was really more than enough.

He was distracted from his thoughts, though, by a rustling in the bushes near the porch. At first, he could only make out the silhouette of two people but then it became obvious who they were when he saw bright red hair and the unmistakable question mark cap on the other’s head. Wendy and Soos were dragging a brand new, pale green bike out of the shadows and towards him with identical big, fat, grins plastered over each other’s faces.

“TADAH~!” they both yelled as they exaggerated the appearance of the bike. You would think it was an actual car with the way they treated it.

“Uhhh…” Dipper mumbled dumbfoundedly and the old gent smiled proudly.

“Beauty, ain’t she?” He patted his shoulder firmly.

“Yeah but….Grunkle Stan, you never spend money unless you absolutely have to, and even then you don’t really…So, what’s the occas—" He stopped suddenly, seeing something white dangle from it with a blurry number. “Oh, is that a price tag?” The thing was hanging from the slick new handle bars daintily, and suddenly, Dipper felt a lot more annoyed than before.

He looked at his grunkle sourly as he eyed it suspiciously and Stanford coughed.

“What?” he swiftly snatched the thing off and threw it across the yard. “No it isn’t.”

The teen gaped. “Oh no, you  _didn’t_.” he whined. “Grunkle  _Stan!_  You stole a  _bike_?!?”

The older Pines was quick to smack a Mystery Shack bumper sticker onto the bike’s license plate and waved him off. “Not anymore! This is my property now!”

Dipper had never face palmed his face so hard in his life.

"Oh come on, kid! Bud, freaken sucks! That chump had it coming." Stanford tried to explain, the other two employees behind him nodding aggressively to his defense. "And next time I rob him—which'll probably be when you’re sixteen—it'll be a damn _car_."

Dipper's face was bound to become permanently red if he continued to face palm so hard. "Please don't."

"Stanford, Stanford!!" Chanted Soos and Wendy and the younger Pines just knew he was fighting a losing war as his grunkle stood upon a wooden crate proudly.

"Why do I even bother?" He sighed, knowing that if he tried to return the bike, they'd probably just steal another one, or maybe even ten, until he conceded.

Patting the prim new thing and hearing it emit a cheery tinkling from its bell, he smiled bitterly. "Well, I guess this isn't so bad..." He mumbled optimistically. “On the bright side, you don’t have to ride that crummy ‘ol golf cart anymore.” He reminded himself, and _damn_ if that didn’t outweigh the cons. 

 

* * *

 

The sky was aflame in caliginous shades of amaranthine as it was marred by stars and constellations, one of the things Dipper actually really loved about living in Gravity Falls; Light pollution had yet to banish the twinkling world of above, and they glittered in shimmering trails in the sky, as if they were forming a road to heaven to guide him along it. With fire flies peeping through the trees to accompany the choir of the crickets’ little tune, Dipper steered down an old path made by travelers long ago.

He had decided to test drive his bike after work around in the woods, promising Stan that he would place signs directing any potential customers to the shack while he was at it. But seeing as he only had about a dozen signs, he had finished early and was by now simply enjoying the sights and smoothness to which his bike glided over the dirt paths. It was a nice bike, withstanding the grass quite well with its white painted tires crunching over rocks with little difficulty. He breathed in the scent of acorns and dry wood deeply as he sped through the Pines and Evergreens with ease, feeling himself laugh as he lifted his arms and legs up and let the bike steer on its own.

Running into a small area of undergrowth, he gasped, butterflies erupting from the brush tickling his body with laughter. He smiled as they cascaded up into the fluctuating colours of the sky and he admired the way they made the trees rain with green tears. Watching in awe as they dispersed, he felt low branches caress his face carefully and he looked back down, allowing for his feet to take back full control of his bike and to reign it in for a sharp turn outside the woods.

He made it into a clearing where there was a steep hill overlooking a strange rock formation split by the sun who’s dark form was barely peeking through them. Pedaling up the structure, he road over the bridge connecting the two sides of the foundation and grinned, feeling a little gutsy and lifting himself off his seat to feel the cool wind whip at his face fiercely. He had never felt so free like he did now, and not a single suicidal thought had even crossed his mind in the entire ride. It was nice to have Wendy, Soos, and even Grunkle Stan around. He didn’t feel like losing all that yet, especially now that his grunkle seemed to finally be warming up to him. Maybe things really would get better.

Winding off the rock path and back into the woods, he decided it was time for him to head on back home. He was humming happily when he happened to notice two bright lights shine behind him. Startled, he turned around to view the sudden flash and his first thought was that they must be headlights.  _But a car here? In the woods?_  That was strange to say in the least. _It couldn’t be._

Veering off the trail, he made sure to stay in the thick woods then, not wanting to disturb anymore drivers.  _It must’ve been a tourist or a drifter, sense it’s too late for it to be anyone else_ , he thought solemnly, suddenly feeling like he shouldn’t be out here anymore. His skin began to crawl and he pedaled harder, pounding over leaves that crunched unnervingly loud in the twilight turned dusk. He cringed at their screeching, feeling like he was riding over dead bodies rather than dead plant matter.

As he swiveled around the overwhelming amount of trees, he searched for another trail that was free of traffic to ride on faster, finding that the grass made his speed suffer more than he could stand at that moment. Once he found a gravel road that snaked around a mountain side, he dropped off from the forest side and onto it gratefully. He noticed that not so far ahead, the road became one sided as the forest sunk down below into a steep slope on the side mysteriously. He was just happy that he had decided to take the road then when he had, or else he might’ve lost control of his bicycle with such a sudden drop.

He pedaled a little more carefully once it got to said point, making sure to ride closer to the mountain side that blocked his left side reassuringly. It was worth noting how the road was only wide enough for one car to pass through it, making Dipper believe that it was an old one. At least there wasn’t anyone else on it.

When he saw a shadow appear in front of him, he gulped.

_Oh, come on!_

His heart leaped painfully as once again, lights flashed behind him too suddenly to be friendly. It had been dark for a while, so having someone turn on their headlights just now was not a good sign. They didn’t want to be seen, and if they didn’t want to be seen, they couldn’t be up to any good.

_I’ve gotta get out of here!_

Dipper disregarded his earlier caution and sped ahead, trying to outrace the car behind him. He could hear its engines by now, roaring like a fire and encouraging his heart rate to switch gears repetitively. Shortly thereafter, he felt his cap give in to the wind as it slid off his head. He called out to it frantically but squeaked when his bike turned suddenly, making him return his hand to the handle like lightening. He decided he could worry about it later. If he was still alive by the end of this, that is.

With a heightened blood pressure and an exhausted body, the teen began to exhibit signs of weariness as he panted heavily over his bike, his calves burning and the lights blurring his vision at the edges as they neared the end of the long zig zagged and dizzying route.

He sighed once he saw the forest rise up again to enclose the other side of the road once more, giving him a chance to ride back into it, but just as they were going to reach its edge, the car behind him rumbled with life again and gained speed. Apparently, it was obvious what he had been thinking, and apparently, someone didn’t fancy that idea very much. Yelping, the brunette turned back to see that it was only about a yard away. Seeing this, he panicked and turned early, missing where the road met the forest and instead falling straight into the underbrush heavily, his bike instantly tilting over dangerously and Dipper almost losing his grip on it completely. He clenched at the brakes and kicked the ground back to regain his balance as the tires became stiff with friction, but it wasn’t enough.

Dipper proceeded to slide down the mountain side in erratic swivels until he met level ground, where he released the brakes to dodge all the trees that came rushing up at him. He wasn’t sure how, but he was flying around all of them like an expert. It almost made him laugh out nervously until he noticed that his brakes wouldn’t halt the tires anymore and instead, simply allowed the pedals to spiral out of control.  _What!? B-but they were just working!?_ Had he pushed them over the threshold and broken them with the rough slide? Maybe it really was more than the bike could handle.[i]

Pedaling uncontrollably, it appeared that his luck had run out as he, not expecting his brakes to fail him, was not prepared to dodge the rest of his way around, resulting in a harsh encounter with a large Pine tree. He cried out as he was met head on with it and his bike’s tire reflected off it, swerving back and into the dirt and crisp leaves with a loud bang that resonated from the tree’s trembling figure. He, on the other hand, had flown off the bike and was thrown right-smack into the thing, his skull crunching painfully against it before he scraped up against the floor hardly conscious. The sound of footsteps crunching on dead leaves resounded across his mind dauntingly, and the last thing he saw was the ground being devoured by the night sky in familiar, curling black flames.

 

* * *

  

Dipper woke up in bed that night.

Cracking his eyes open slowly, he saw the moonlight scatter broken shadows over him, making his entire room look like it was covered in the eerie limbs of trees. He groaned groggily while turning around in bed like he was hungover, the strange feeling in his head throbbing painfully up against his skull like some backwards revival as the rest of his body seemed to burn back to life with him. Feeling his soul crawl with uncertainty, he tried to make sense of everything when nothing really made any.

As he slowly propped himself up on his elbows, he noticed that he was still in the same clothes that he had been in all day, and it was then that it all started to come back to him. He remembered everything—from getting the bike, to the late ride-out, all the way up to the crash that had happened, and almost perfectly too when on instinct, he lifted his hand up to feel his head.

He didn’t feel anything…but…

Shoving the blankets off him, he scrambled up to turn on his lamp and scurried over to the mirror he had that was hidden behind a dusty ol’ tarp. When he saw his reflection, he looked fine. Not a single scratch was on him, not even dirt—including his clothes—and he suddenly felt like puking.

_Oh god, I’m gonna throw up._

He slapped a hand onto his mouth and stomach in a vain attempt to calm his nausea. “But…how?” he whispered desperately, running a hand over the mirror. How was he...? He had rammed into that tree, he knew he had! “…So then how am I still…?”

“Alive? Good question.”

Dipper gulped. Turning around hesitantly, he saw what it was that casted the moon’s light to the grave. A dark, starry and blistering figure gazed down at him with sharp, narrowed, white eyes. Their brilliance outshined even the brightest of stars, and he could see a constellation of tear drops—no, triangles—under its eyes. They glimmered ominously before curling upwards, and so did its eyes too, as if to smile at him.

“Fortunately, I’ve got a good answer.”

Dipper backed away when the humanoid hopped off the ledge of his window. It’s shadow of a top hat blocked the view of the moon, harbouring a darkness over him, and with a swift motion of his wrist and fingers, the cane in his hand disappeared like stardust smoke. It stared at him with an intense interest, tilting its head like it was sizing him up before taking a few leisure steps towards him. When he saw the way Dipper continued to back himself into a corner like a frightened animal, it stopped, a small chuckle escaping it. “That god-fearing look in your eye…I like it. It looks good on you. Well, it’s a nice change anyway from the tears and all.” Waving the thought off like it was nothing, he gripped Dipper’s chin firmly, resulting in the boy’s struggling. He squirmed under the other’s hard gaze as it raked over his body assesingly, suddenly making the boy’s face burn hot at the exposed feeling of it. “If anything, it’s quite flattering, Pine tree.”

 _Pine tree? What is he talking about?_ Dipper bit his lip defiantly. “W-ho are you..? A-and wh-hat are y-you doing h-here?” his voice came out raspier than he’d expected and the shadow seemed to find it amusing as he dipped the teenager’s head lower.

“Don’t strain yourself, kiddo. Wouldn’t want to bust a chord now, would we?” The threatening tone underlying the sweet voice had Dipper trembling in a pool of his own nerves. It felt icy down his back and he gritted his teeth.

“Just answer the question.” He breathed out, regaining control over his voice as he used his hands to hold himself up against the wall.

“So demanding.” The shadow hummed, releasing his chin suddenly and turning back to walk towards the window. Having looked his fill, the shadow kept his distance. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll answer your second question. Good? Great!”

Dipper wanted to butt in but the other was quick to cut him out.

“I’m the one who saved you.” It said, the figure’s hands clapping together and pointing at him obviously.

“What? _Saved_ me?” Dipper’s eyes were wide and disbelieving as he blinked owlishly back at the other. “But why would you—?”

“No need to thank me, kid. You’re undying gratitude is thanks enough.” The shadow replied, ignoring his inquiry. It threw its arms behind its head care freely and swung its legs up as if on an invisible lounge chair, its voice carrying a light-hearted and mocking tone of modesty. “But there’s a reason I had to save you in the first place.”

Dipper waited for him to respond. Obviously, he wasn’t gonna get any straight answers out of this guy so he might as well let him talk on his own. It was better than having to deal with his elusive techniques.

“Y’see, you’ve got a price on your head, kid.”

Dipper broke. “Uhh, excuse me, _what?”_ How could he? He was just a dejected, angsty, keep-to-myself teen who hardly had his life in order and who barely even had an acquaintance to his name. Who could _possibly_ want him dead? “Why?!”

“Why not?” it shrugged, and Dipper glared.

“Something tells me you wouldn’t come here on a ‘ _why not_ ’.” He stated matter of factly, and it responded by giving him that same, all knowing smirk. Well, sort of anyway. It just looked like it from the indication of the edges of his upturned eyes but he didn’t exactly have a mouth so... it was all really left up to conjecture.

“Well no, I wouldn’t. But why should I tell you anything?” it wagered, seemingly interested in toying with him now. Dipper gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

“Because neither you or I have anything to lose from it.”

The being seemed to gauge his answer before simply tutting. “But I don’t gain anything either, sapling. I don’t do things for free twice.”

Dipper looked utterly lost. _“Twice?”_

“Oh, c’mon, Pine tree! Your _life?_ You think I spare humans just for fun? Call it a freebie, but there’s only one per customer. The next time the forest decides to try and kill you, you really will be dead.”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “What!? The _forest!?”_

“Pine tree, please. There’s an old man sleeping across the corridor. Inside voices.”

“Sorry,” Dipper whispered in embarrassment.

The strange being didn’t seem to notice his discomfort though as it summoned up its cane again with a snap, and suddenly, he was floating again. “Well, thank goodness none of this is real anyway!” Turning heel and walking up to his window, it made a one-eighty before standing on the ledge of it cockily. “See ya, sprite!” Taking its hat off for him in goodbye and winking, it leaned backwards, seemingly falling of the edge like nothing.

Dipper, feeling more disorientated than ever, refused to acknowledge his goodbye and chased after him, reaching his _open_ window before slamming into it painfully. “Ow! What the—? Wait! You still haven’t answered my—” When he attempted to look down through the glass, he found that there was nothing. Literally. He was standing in a black void of it. “Okay, I get it. You don’t wanna talk right now. It’s cool. I’ll try calling back later.” Dipper frowned sarcastically, shrugging it off like it was no big deal, before feeling his foot slip. Of course, when everything was just pitch black, you couldn’t really tell when there was a dip[ii], so to his defense, screaming was plausible at the time. So he didn’t hold back on it and did it like a girl.

That’s when he woke up.

In his bed.

Again.

Dipper was panting, his eyes darting around wildly before noticing that the time on his clock had yet to change. His window was shut tight, and his face didn’t hurt anymore from slamming into the invisible force field that had been his said window when he tried chasing after mouthless. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead agonizingly slow.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“That’s it!” Dipper cried, lifting his hands up in the air like he was conceding to something. “You’re going nuts, Dipper Pines.”

When he turned back to see that it was four o’ five in the morning, according to his analogue clock, he sighed. _At least time is moving this time._ Walking up to his window to sit in front of it at his desk, he dazed off into his thoughts. Had he really just dreamt the whole thing? Thinking back over it and remembering every hit that he had endured, he grimaced. _It sure felt real for a dream,_ he thought, running a hand through his hair. Was he really that desperate to find the truth that he conjured up a fantasized one? Resting his head over his crossed arms, he stared out into the woods, wondering what had really happened when suddenly, a glow popped up to his window.

The teen was speechless, temporarily losing all rational thought as his eyes widened and his mouth followed. When he did snap out of it a little, Dipper stared back at it puzzled. He squinted at it when he swore he saw something move inside the glow; that was until it tapped at his window in frustration, looking like it was slamming its entire self onto the panes.

Startled, Dipper screeched and fell back in his chair.

 _That’s the second damn time,_ he twitched begrudgingly as he blushed from the humiliation. He knew nobody was actually there watching him but…he still felt like there was, and it made his neck go red in dull frustration.

He looked up then when he could’ve sworn he heard a familiar tinkling, one that sounded conveniently like laughing, before getting up grumpily, gripping the desk for support as he threw himself over it to unlock the window in annoyance. As soon as he did, the little light zipped in, looking around momentarily before settling itself on top of one of his numerous stacks of books littered around his room. When he sat back in his chair and turned around to look at it, it suddenly dimmed and waved at him, revealing that it was the same fairy from before, seemingly unhurt to his odd relief.

“I-it’s… _you_ ,” Was all he could say.

It seemed to nod up at him serenely and he huffed, placing a hand over his chest. “Well, next time, let me know you’re visiting. You nearly gave me a damn heart attack, Tink!” the brunette complained, and the fairy neared him, caressing his cheek carefully. Dipper was confused then, as it gave him a small smile, opening its mouth to say something incoherent. All his ears could pick up on though were the sounds of small bells ringing.

“Tink, I don’t understand what you’re saying…” Dipper informed her, looking sad as her words meant nothing to him.[iii]

She searched his eyes then, before backing away. Retreating behind the young boy, she gave him a good push and he almost tripped out of his chair.

“H-hey!! Tink! What are you—?”

Suddenly, she grabbed his hand and pointed towards the woods. He looked down at her and gave her a perplexed look. “…You want me to follow you?” he tried lamely, a funny smile forming over his face when she nodded enthusiastically.  _Oh no. I suppose I can’t ask why either._

Looking uneasy, he breathed in slowly, trying to gauge his options carefully.  _Okay, Dipper. You can either A. refuse and live a long and semi-happy life, or B. agree and probably die at the hands of a murderous fairy…who for some reason doesn’t seem all that murderous anymore…_

He hummed. He couldn’t deny that he was interested in following. After all, maybe she would show him something important. Maybe she would even help him explain what had happened to him that night, or if the creature he dreamt about was any real or not. Whatever it was, he hoped to god he was prepared to fend for himself if the time came.

With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, he relented. “Okay, Tink. Lead the way."

The fairy seemed pleased with his cooperation and guided him out his window, lifting him up with her weird pixie powers and glitter. When she dropped him suddenly, he fell flat on his tush and he glared up at her immediately after. She seemed to find it funny that he lacked any reflexes and it occurred to Dipper that this might as well make them even for getting her knocked out of a goddam window.  _Still, how many times have I fallen since I got here? Yeesh,_ he thought with a pout to his lips.

As he followed her beyond the tree line, her luminescence guided him to an unfamiliar route. He was beginning to doubt his decision to come when they seemed to be trudging for hours…I mean, he was pretty sure he had been touched more than he ever wanted to be in his life by several strange, finger-like branches, and he was _pretty_ sure he had stepped on too many hard crunching roots and unusually squishy areas to feel at ease. That being said, the fact he could hardly see without the little woman’s light was a bother as well.  _Not to mention how the trees always look so far apart when she passes through them._ Honestly, how was it possible that he could feel them almost claustrophobically if he followed her path exactly every time?

Eventually, they made it to an area where he noticed his bike lying on the ground limply as it was lit by his companion’s bright glow. Gasping, he ran up to it to lift it back on its two wheels and inspected it. He was stunned to see that it was just as good as when he had first received it, nothing looking out of place or bent out of whack like he had assumed it would be. But on the other hand, if this was really here, then that meant…

Dipper frowned. “So it did happen, didn’t it?” He looked up at the small fairy and she nodded. “I knew it,” he whispered, remembering the experience all too painfully. It was all too vivid and fresh in his mind to fool him completely as just a false memory.

Speaking of painful, Dipper recalled having hit the tree, but not feeling an actual  _tree_. When his head had collided into it, he remembered it feeling cold and hard, like metal. But that didn’t make any sense. He saw a tree so it had to be a one…right?

To his relief, when he turned around, still standing tall and mightily before him was said Pine looking just as it was before.  _It doesn’t look any different, but will it feel different? I wonder…_

Walking up to it hesitantly, he examined it from close up. “Sure looks like a tree to me…but, I know what I felt.” He said firmly, gathering his resolve to look up at it defiantly. He gave it a good knocking when, sure enough, his skin met hard metal. And for the record, he  _did_  double check by placing his ear right up against it to hear the iron vibrate ominously, so no, he couldn’t be nuts.

“I take it back. I’m not crazy; I’m a _genius_.”

_Take that Grunkle Stan! I knew there was something strange about this town…_

The brunette’s smile fell off his face though once he heard something creak loudly. Walking around, he saw that a door had been opened. The tiny fairy was floating before it, giving him a curious look as he stared between the strange contraption and her. When he tried looking inside, Dipper was upset that he had no way of seeing what was there to begin with. Furrowing his brows in irritation, he stuck his hand inside anxiously as he felt around the soot covered opening until his hand hit something—a pole maybe? He latched onto it to get a better feel for it and was surprised when it shifted.

Almost immediately, the sound of another door opening startled him and he stared back at the fairy in confusion. “What was that?”

She looked just as perplexed and left his side before stopping to stare at something inquisitively. She pointed towards it and Dipper rubbed his dust covered hands on his pants in disgust, still feeling like there were strands of spider webs entangled on them.

When he reached her, he almost yelped, his foot narrowly missing the gaping hole in the ground. “Holy moley, this better not be a grave!” Dipper breathed, holding his heart and calming down.

On closer inspection, he saw that it was too small to be a grave, only being about a few feet deep and a few feet wide. Inside of it being…some strange… _Uhh…_ Dipper blanked out. _A box???_

Ripping the contents from its prison of cobwebs, Dipper peered down at it to find that it was _actually_ a dusty old book. He blew the rest of the residue off it, resulting in one of his stupidly childlike sneezes that he hated so much—mostly because it reminded him of Mabel and the way it would always make her coo so affectionately—and opened it carefully. It looked kind of like an antique and he admired the elegant calligraphy inside it and the small magnifying glass it had attached to its spine by a string. “Wow,” Dipper gasped, turning it over in his hands and flipping through the pages leaisurely. “Please don’t let this be a dream again, please don’t let this be a dream again…” he whispered as his awe-stricken eyes scanned through pages and pages of numerous wonders. The fairy simply gave him an odd look and he gave her a sheepish grin back. “Uhh, long story, actually. You wouldn’t believe it if I even told you.”

He took a good look at one of the pages when his interest was piqued by the “TRUST NO ONE” in big black ink and double underlined letters. Moving his eyes upwards, he read the lines before the exclaimation, mumbling them out loud. “Unfortunately, my suspicions have been confirmed. I’m being watched. I must hide this book before He finds it. Remember—In Gravity Falls there is no one you can trust.”

Dipper hummed as he mused over the confession. “Well, I don’t have to worry about that, then. I’ve already got that covered.” He would’ve spent more time looking through it if it weren’t for a certain fairy tugging on his shoulder’s sleeve hurriedly.

“Huh? Tink, can’t you wait? I’m trying to—” There was a loud snapping of branches and it finally seemed to occur to Dipper that he was in a forest, alone, with only a little fairy for a companion, at 4AM, in complete darkness. Why did he think going on an adventure at this time would be a good idea?

He felt his nerves bunch up all over him in fear as he felt the presence of something sinister watching him. The air felt chillier than usual and his legs shook with anticipation as he remembered the same dreadful feeling he got when the strange figure in his dream spoke.

_“The next time the forest decides to try and kill you, you really will be dead.”_

Dipper gulped. “Um, maybe we should go…” Dipper whispered and the fairy nodded hurriedly, gesturing for him to get back on his bike before it was too late. He listened and mounted it swiftly, getting ready to pedal for his life when birds started to burst out from their nests and fly away, screeching in horror like frightening melodies. _Well, that certainly was one way to set the mood,_ Dipper thought sarcastically. But he had bigger worries at the moment. After all, he had watched enough horror movies to know what hysteric birds flocking away meant.

Something was coming for him.

 _Great. How am I going to navigate out of this dense forest fast enough now? I can’t even see where I’m_ _—HOLY SHIT, IS THAT A TWIG WRAPPING AROUND MY ANKLE???_ Releasing a distressed cry, he hunched over his bicycle readily anyway. “I TAKE IT BACK! Please let this be a dream! Please let this be a dream! Dammitwhydidihavetoopenmybigmouth, pleaselethisbeadreampleaseletthisbeadream—!“

But before Dipper could even get a full rotation into the pedals, his friend was way ahead of him and lifted him high up into the air and past the multiple layers of tree branches and corroding leaves. They scratched at his face uncomfortably but it hardly hurt when the adrenaline pumping through his veins coursed through him so violently. All that he could think of now was how dead he would be if he hesitated for a moment.

Feeling the trees start to tremble apart to slowly allow whatever it was that was after him to chase him, Dipper slammed on the pedals as hard as he could, causing them to grind over the wind and away from his spot. The fairy dust enchanting the wheels made it easy for him to keep pedaling as there was hardly any friction when riding up above in the sky. Before he knew it, the two had arrived back at the shack, cheeks flushed and hearts fluttering on overdrive.

Dipper sat there on his bike, suspended in the air and trying to catch his breath. When his good judgment came back to him, he sighed in relief, glad to be back home. Still having some of the hormones running through his system though, he laughed giddily, making goofy gestures on his bike as he pumped his fist into the air victoriously. “Yeah! Haha! Take that, you creepy old forest! You’ll have to try harder than that to stop Dipper Pines!” the young boy whooped loudly, shooting his little glittery friend an exhilarated look that she mirrored back at him.

In the spur of the moment, he offered his hand to high five her, but she only glanced back at it in confusion. “Oh, it’s called a high five, silly. You’re supposed to slap my hand with your own.” He explained. “Like this,” he grabbed her hand and demonstrated it, gently nudging it to press up against his. “Now you try it.” He encouraged, waiting expectantly.

She seemed a little nervous but did it anyway, producing a petty clapping noise that made Dipper grin widely. “Atta’ girl!” he chuckled, happy that he was able to teach her something new. It felt kind of surreal, like something he would only think up of in his wildest dreams, but an odd sense of pride overcame him at the thought of expressing his human culture to someone so different. It made his spirits spring in joy.

“Now…how to get down…” Dipper mused, sticking out his tongue as he pedaled around a bit. He looked silly as he rode in circles thoughtfully. “Maybe if I steer downwards? No, bikes don’t do that…Maybe I should…huh, nope. My weight doesn’t really seem to have any affect either. How about—whoa!”

The small fairy was reeling him down, placing him gently onto the house’s roof so that he could slip back into his room soundlessly. He seemed grateful at the action and grinned. “Or, I guess…that works too.” He joked and she gave him a teasing look. As Dipper parked the thing, he stretched, finally feeling tired enough to sleep again. But before he could retreat back into the house, he turned back. “Thanks, Tink.” He offered, but by then, she was long gone, leaving him to stand there alone on the roof.

 

* * *

 

“Hey!”

There was a loud and sudden clap.

“Wake up, sunshine!”

Dipper groaned, turning away from the obnoxious onslaught of noise when a light, all of a sudden, flashed right at his eyes, making his vision swim in red.

“GAH! Grunkle Stan!” Dipper whined, swatting away at the hellish thing. “What the _hell?!_ ”

“Boy, you better be damn grateful that your mom isn’t here right now. ‘Cause I know for a fact that my nephew and his wife wouldn’t tolerate that kinda’ language in their house.” His grunkle pointed out before shoving the flashlight back onto Dipper’s night stand.

 _Note to self, hide you reading-after-hours flashlight somewhere Stanford can’t find it before falling asleep,_ the half-dead teen thought before grumbling and hiding beneath his sheets. Besides, wasn’t it a bit too early in the day for his great uncle to be badgering him? It’s not like he was ever late to work or anything. It was kind of hard to be when you lived about thirty feet from your job, anyway.

The old man sniffled. “Don’t make me take out my water guns.”

Dipper poked out of his comforter to give Stan a peeved look.

“C’mon kid. If you don’t shimmy, you’re gonna miss your chance to go visit your sister before work. It’s not like you to sleep in.”

That woke him up. He shifted over to look at his clock and noticed that he only had about an hour left to change, tail it out of there, and pedal to the hospital and back before starting his shift. He turned back to his grunkle then, watching him in sudden confusion as he downed his usual dose of caffeine.

“Wait, why do _you_ care?” The brunnete scoffed, squinting at him suspiciously before padding over to his closet on shaky feet. _Man, I guess I should’ve expected to be a little sore after all that pedaling…_ He tried to disregard the soreness he felt in his calves but he was pretty sure you could see it either way.

Sure enough, his uncle eyed his unsteady form funnily but ignored it, focusing on the bigger picture here. As long as he wasn’t hungover, he didn’t care what it was. “I don’t, generally speaking. But I also don’t need you grumbling and bitching while giving tours. I want these suckers to come back and recommend this place to their friends and yadda yadda, all that good commercial crap to bring in sales and stuff, capiché? We’re not famous for treating the customers like third class citizens, we’re famous for our misterioso nature.” He explained blandly, lifting his hands up to make the quotations around _“misterioso”._

The teen just frowned as he shucked off his shirt. “I don’t _bitch_.” He insisted, and his great uncle simply shrugged.

“Wait until I tell your mother the kinda’ words you use.”

Dipper gaped. “But you just—??” He was abruptly stopped in his thought processes though as Stanford raised his glass mockingly up at him, resulting in the brunette’s huff of displeasure.

 

Once he was dressed, well fed, and out in the crisp, morning air, Dipper took the time to look lost.

Where was his bike?

He looked all around, searching behind the bushes and next to the golf cart but to no avail. That was until something gleamed into his eye painfully from atop of the roof, suddenly jogging his memory. “Oh crap.” He whispered under his breath.

“How the hell am I supposed to explain to Stan how the bike got onto the roof!?” Dipper yelled, practically pulling his hair out just in time for Soos to walk in and hear it. With wide eyes, the Hispanic retreated back slowly, pretending as if he’d never heard the sudden outburst.

But Grunkle Stan had different plans in mind. “What? I heard my name being shouted to the heavens. Who’d I screw over this time?”

Dipper jumped before turning around slowly. “Uhh…”

Wendy was parking her car right next to the Mystery shack just in time to catch a glimpse of Dipper’s bike tanning in the morning dawn. “Hey, Dip! How’d you get your bike all the way up there?” she called out then, and Dipper could practically hear Stan’s confusion.

 _So much for being discreet about it,_ Dipper grimaced, taking a moment to fall on his butt and to sit on the ground limply as his world continued to drive him insane.

 

 

[i] Ladies and gentleman, that was a pun.

[ii] ‘nother pun ‘cause  I am on **_fire_**.

[iii] *cough cough* they rung a dead bell, if ya’ know what I mean, eh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in pun hell.


	5. Spell Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourselves, this is a long-ass chapter.

After Dipper swore a hundred times—and then some—that he had no clue how the bike got onto the roof, Stan finally dropped it and helped him lug the thing back down. Well, more like hurl it off the roof with the bike landing on Soos, who had  _insisted_  that “ _Oh! Oh! Mr. Pines! I can catch it! Throw it over here!!”_  before it smacked him into oblivion and he fell backwards with a loud grunt and a,  _“I got it, dudes! Here’s your bike Dipper.”_

The brunette, on the other hand, just took it quickly with a small, grateful nod, and mounted it. Then he pedaled at the speed of light as far away as his sore legs could take him, not once turning to look back. Feeling his stamina wearing thin, he eventually let up once he had rolled into town. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Dipper remembered to stop by the flower shop beforehand, seeing as it was Sunday today and he was due for another batch. Parking his bike and chaining it to a nearby rail, he walked into the place to pick out the gaudiest flower bouquet he could find, just like Mabel liked them. When he was certain that he had found some that were probably bright enough to use as a rescue signal for the stranded, he purchased them immediately and rushed back out to his bike.

On his way though, he had managed to trip over something— _naturally—_ before falling face first into asphalt. With a whine and wince, he looked up, rubbing his nose slowly before frantically scavenging the area for his flowers. “Oh shoot, the bouquet!” Dipper complained, his heart suddenly leaping at the thought of it being crushed under him. When he looked though, he found nothing, and took a short second to breathe out in relief. Turning to face his next challenge and look behind him to make sure no one  _else_  was on them, he saw something small and pointy hunching over the flowers. Suddenly feeling a little speechless, Dipper stared with wide eyes as the little thing belched a stream of colours onto his bouquet before eventually getting up tipsy and bouncing his way into a bush.

After staring in disbelief in the direction of the,  _What the hell was that? A little bearded man???_ Dipper wasn’t so sure he wanted to pick up what was rightfully his anymore, but he sucked it up and crawled over to the batch of flowers anyway. To his surprise, the flowers were not only fine, but even healthier looking than before. Where some had begun to droop, all of them were now standing up straight and proud, tall as miniature pines. He noticed that what little vomit was left was slowly sinking into the flowers and making them more vibrant and plush than before, a strange and beautiful opal sheen and sparkly residue being left behind on their exterior.

Fortunately, Dipper had felt the need to pack his newfound and mysterious book into his messenger bag to show to Mabel earlier that morning. He knew weird when he saw it, and he recalled having seen a _collection_ of weird as well as strange beings in said journal. Quickly stumbling to his bike to look through the thing, he stopped at the page labeled “Gnomes” and looked more incredulous than he had before. “Little men of the Gravity Falls forest…” He whispered before closing the book with a dazed blink.

“Wow, you know, at this point it’s weirder that I  _do_ believe in this stuff.” Dipper huffed, shoving the thing back into his bag before he could find if something as ridiculous as  _unicorns_  were real too. But he knew what he had seen, and the flowers now neatly placed inside his bike’s white wicker basket were living proof of that. So even if he had wanted to brush off his close encounter with the small gnome, he really couldn’t.

Unfortunately, that also made him that much more incredibly easy to spot, so when arriving at the hospital only to find a certain blonde walking out of it, he should’ve known hiding was futile. On his way to scurry behind the lamp post like an idiot, he was frozen the moment his hearing picked up her smug, haughty laughter. Trying to hold back the instant urge to roll his eyes, he bit his tongue from saying something that’d probably get him killed.  “Hello, Pacifica.” Dipper had spat instead.

She simply shrugged at him, like it wasn’t worth her time to even mention his name. Or maybe she just hadn’t bothered to remember it? “Are you colour blind or do you just have horrendous taste in flowers? Because that thing in your hands honestly looks like a five year-old puked rainbows all over it.” She sneered, and Dipper had to bite back his tongue again with a sigh before turning to face her.

“Gnome”

_“Excuse me?”_

"Nothing," he insisted grumpily, strolling past her before she could complain about something else, like why he had a pink nose or why the damn weather was so nice today.

"You know," she said suddenly, making Dipper feel his dread rise. 

_Too late._

"They're not taking visitors right now."

Dipper spun on his heel to look at her incredulously. "The hospital?"

She scoffed. "No, the Barber's."

Dipper felt himself fume a little. "A yes or no would've done just as fine." He said between gritted teeth. "But pardon me for finding it a little hard to believe that the hospital wouldn't be taking in visitors during their  _visiting hours_." The brunette responded dryly, obviously hitting a nerve when Pacifica seemed to glare in return.

 _Yeah, that's right. Two can play at the sarcasm game!_ Dipper thought almost self-righteously before seeing her turn heel suddenly and stride back towards what was probably her heading home.

 _On foot?_ Now that he thought about it, she wasn't accompanied by her usual posse of suit-clad men and there was no slick black car waiting for her either. And there was  _always_  suit-clad men and a slick black car waiting for her. Not to mention that she had let his snarky remark fly and she didn’t even so much as try to come up with a comeback. He had just won in a fight against Pacifica Northwest and he didn't even get to freaken' enjoy it because it didn’t even feel like a real win anymore.

Something wasn’t right here.

Feeling rather annoyed and a bit suspicious all of a sudden, he'd felt compelled to tail her.  _But how?_  He had to get back to work in less than forty minutes and—judging by the distance to town in comparison to the Shack’s—she lived about ten minutes away by car. Getting there, snooping, and getting back was out of the question. There was just no way he'd be able to pull it off.

That's when he felt a sudden pull. But to what? The journal? Digging his hand into his messenger bag, he managed to tug out the leather back and filter through the pages, his fingers suddenly stopping at a certain page; its header?  _Spells_.

Dipper was surprised to find an entire section of them and his finger instantly landed on the one that he needed, almost like a Ouija Board would. It was ominous and quite frankly, terrifying, but he was a little too preoccupied to care all that much at the moment to give it his usual thoughtfulness, seeing as Pacifica had managed to call up a taxi and he was dangerously close to losing her trail.

"Doppel Spell," he muttered as his finger continued to slide along the words. "To create a doppelganger of oneself, one should incantate the words:  _Caro et sanguis, spiritus umbrae. Da mihi virtutem habere quos videmus in speculo resplendent. **[i]** _ The words must be chanted into a surface that can reflect your image or else the spell is useless. Take notice that it is an imperfect cloning spell as it does not simply create a clone. It wills a look-alike that is your exact mirror and works as a diversion. The workings and after effects of the spell are unknown as I've failed to attempt it yet."

Dipper’s shoulders slumped.  _Great_.

He wasn’t an idiot. Even as an angsty little teen, he knew a red flag when he saw one, but he felt a strange sort of ecstasy overcome him at the thought of casting a spell that might _actually work_. It was overwhelming, to say the least, and he found himself willing to do anything if it meant unlocking the secrets of Gravity Falls. And so far, this book proved to be the most reliable thing he’d come across as it had yet to fail him in his endeavors.

After committing the line to memory, the teen felt a wave of reassurance fill him. With every reiteration of the spell in his head, the brunette felt more calm as blood rushed to his fingertips. Feeling a small chill run up his spine, he straightened, turning to stare at his reflection in the opaque windows of the hospital. Now confident that he could say it without breaking eye-contact with himself, he repeated the spell once more, out-loud this time, mumbling it under his breath.

"Caro et sanguis, spiritus umbrae. Da mihi virtutem habere quos videmus in speculo resplendent."

As the final syllable left his lips, he instantly felt another presence, and suddenly, he wasn't staring at himself anymore. I mean, he was but... _wasn't_?

The mirror image blinked out of cadence to his own when suddenly, the image climbed out of its glass cage, a full-bodied flesh and blood being apparating right out of the 2-dimensional surface.

The brunette felt a little stunned as he watched himself give him a calm and wide smile. Feeling the wind get chillier, Dipper shook his head, disregarding it by reminding himself that he had to do this quickly. “Okay,” he exhaled, wiggling his shoulders loose before facing his literal breathing reflection.  _Wow this is like looking into a fun house mirror,_ he gulped. When the other failed to look anything but composed, Dipper gathered up his courage. “I need you to fill in for me while I tail Pacifica. Can you do that? Take care of my shift. Once that’s done, ask Stanford if you can go upstairs to my room. I don’t need him suspecting anything.” Dipper instructed, giving his clone the stink eye, which it simply returned with a plastic look. “Oh, but don’t call him that! You strictly refer to him as  _Grunkle_   _Stan!_  He would ground me if I started calling him by his first name so casually. But Stan works too. Just don’t overdo it, yeah? But once you’re up there, lock yourself up in my room and stay put till I get back, y’hear?”

Seeing himself nod back at him so serenely, Dipper felt an odd relief at his clone’s odd complacency. Sure he wasn’t the number one actor for any personality, and he didn’t look like much of a talker…but he seemed sensible enough to handle the job. And if he was right in his judgment, Stan wouldn't care enough to even notice. That being said, he gave an optimistic little hum.  _This might actually work!_

“Great! I’m going to head off then! Good luck…uh…me?” He waved at himself awkwardly before mounting his bike and chasing after the taxi’s route. He couldn’t help but notice his clone’s dead stare following him as he pedaled away, so he decided to just focus on looking ahead.

 _Geez, I really hope he doesn’t tip off Stan the way he does me. Guy gives me the creeps. But I shouldn’t be gone for too long. I just want to get some inside information on Pacifica and her weird behaviour._  Normally, he would’ve let it be. I mean, it wasn’t really his business to poke around in other people’s affairs, and to be honest, he didn’t usually even  _care_. But this time…with the journal at his disposal and at the light feeling tickling his rib cage in excitement, he was hooked. He wanted to be reckless for once in his life and the thought of one-upping Pacifica was just too good to be true.

So with that mindset, he rode up the dirt path to her family's mansion, making sure to stay just out of sight of the cab. When they finally did make it, Dipper made sure to hide behind shrubs and the fencing as to not alert the cabby or Pacifica. Just to be safe, he even hid his bike behind some bushes before going into spy-mode.

"Okay, Dipper," the brunette breathed, leaning against the brick wall that made up the gates to the Northwest Manor as he tried to soothe his nerves with a pep-talk. "You can do this. Just get in and get out. As soon as you get something blackmail-worthy, you tail it outta' there. Done. Mission accomplished. You don't have to go to jail, and Stan doesn't get stuck with clone you. Everything is just awesome." He nodded to himself assertively before doing one last breathing exercise.

Once the Taxi driver was gone and Pacifica was nearing the edge of her doorstep, Dipper geared up, swiftly shuffling the journal out and hastily scavenging for a spell that would let him break in while staying undetected. His fingers guided him to a section labelled  **INTACTILIS**. Under the bolded letters, there was a series of spells that granted a sort of disconnection from reality. There was a certain spell that caught his eye though. The incantation was for the absence of the sense of touch, making it possible for the spell caster to exhibit permeable abilities and phase through things easily. Dipper grinned as he read the spell out loud, the thrill thrumming through his veins dulling his practicality.

 “Intactile est intemerata.

Ideo, ego sum et non violabile potest non esse![ii]”

At first, he couldn’t tell the difference, but as Dipper tried touching the gate’s walls, his hand slipped through. With a delighted little laugh, he almost cheered as he stumbled through them. Of course, he wasn’t out of the fire yet. He had used a permeability spell, but that didn’t mean he was invisible. He had to stay hidden if he wanted to stay safe. So as a result, he kept close to the shadows, eventually managing to peek through a window before walking through it once he made sure no one was in sight.

Wandering around aimlessly through the hallow halls of the manor, Dipper realized that he might end up lost if he wasn’t careful. That’s when he heard Pacifica’s name being called. He followed the sound of her voice once he had heard its echo chiming off the walls, making sure to stay inside the mansion’s infrastructure so that no one would see him. It was an older woman speaking, her distressed voice carrying through the halls like a beacon to his curiosity.

“Here, mother.” A familiar voice called back carefully, it’s tone oddly soft and respectful.

“How’s your father, Pacifica?” the voice asked once he had reached them, and Dipper perked up, leaning closer to the wall and shuffling over to the source of the sound. He tried to keep his self-control intact, but he was dying to see what was happening.

Peeking out of the wall through a painting of a man, he noticed the mirror in front of him and made sure to reposition himself so that his face replaced the man’s. He tried not to be so pleased with himself and forced a nonchalant look over his face as he casually casted his eyes towards where Pacifica and the woman, who must’ve been the mother she had mentioned earlier, stood, his eyes registering the blonde shrugging shyly.

“They said they’d call if anything new happens… As of now, he just seems stable. They can’t break him out of it.” She informed placidly, her face refraining from expressing too much emotion, as if it had been drilled into her manner to do so.

It was then that the woman’s shoulder’s started to shudder and Dipper felt that same dread he had experienced when he heard his mom sobbing at Mabel’s bedside. He knew the waterworks would spill any moment now, and he, quite frankly, wasn’t so keen on staying there to watch. Not only that, but it was obvious Pacifica could tell too because she bit her lip and looked away, clenching her fists as the woman began to weep quietly. It made Dipper’s heart sink as the dread in his gut fully settled in.

 _Oh crap! Oh crap! I shouldn’t be seeing this!! Fuck, why did I think meddling would be_ _—_

“I just don’t get it. How could someone just fall into a coma like that..?” the woman responded shakily in between breaths, successfully breaking Dipper’s thoughts as he turned once more to look at her.

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second. _What!? Another comatose patient??_

The woman’s sobbing had flustered her face in bright red, and Dipper had never seen someone so grown up look so child-like. In the end, even adults could express raw emotion, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. But he was, considering that he always managed to slip away or avoid looking at his mother when she was weeping…much like Pacifica had done. Dipper just couldn’t bear to hear it, much less _see_ it.

Pacifica bowed her head, her brows contorting as if she wanted to answer but couldn’t. It was clear that any remark she could make would just be useless jabber. Nothing she could say would ease her mother’s pain, so what was the use in even trying?

Feeling both uncomfortable and un-needed, Pacifica gently separated from her mother, her heels turning quietly into a different hallway on her right. Dipper made sure to follow as the girl entered an elegant, pink room. Judging by the clothes and interior of it, it was Pacifica’s room, and quite the vast one at that. It was definitely bigger than any room Dipper had ever owned—heck, it was probably bigger than his house’s _living room_ —leaving him a little in awe before shaking it off and resuming his activities dumbly.

But in that light, Dipper felt a little strange being in her room, especially with all the pink surrounding him like a bad dream, but he digested his unease and tried to stay focused. Except, how could he when the girl he had originally tried to dig up dirt on climbed into her bed and began to tear up? Her sniffles were muffled by the pillow in between her arms but it was obvious that she was crying. Slumping behind the wall below her window, Dipper rubbed at his own face.

_This is just wrong._

He couldn’t help but feel like he was getting punished for prying in other people’s personal affairs. No one deserved to be hurt like this, not even people as rotten as Pacifica. He knew what it felt like to be hurt by a loved one who was in a coma, so he felt nothing but sympathy for her and her mother. Any qualms he had with Pacifica earlier had pretty much instantly dispersed, and he was left feeling little more than a jackass.

_That must’ve been why the hospital wasn’t taking in visitors… Of course._

Feeling his guilt ride up his shoulders, Dipper groaned, rubbing his face in fear that he’d start to mope around too. Now wasn’t the time to cry, he had to fix this! He wasn’t quite sure how but…he’d find a way to make it up to Pacifica. He’d make sure to treat her right from now on. As much as he hated to admit it, they weren’t all that different anymore, and even though she was a pain-in-the-butt-rich-snobby-kid, she was still just a _kid_ , and more importantly, a _human being_. Nothing, not even her high status, could change that. And for that, Dipper owed her one big apology.

Looking wearily down at the journal tucked safely into his bag, Dipper sighed, brows dragging upwards in unprecedented despair. How was he ever gonna make up for this?

Feeling much too tired much too early in the day, he leaned backwards towards the mansion’s brick wall resignedly, feeling like his weight was simply too much for him. That was until he continued to fly back as he lost his balance when no contact was made between him and said wall. Feeling his dorsal side slam against the glossy floor of Pacifica’s room instead, he immediately realized his utter mistake. He would’ve made a sound of distress, but he found that the only thing that he was able to gasp out was a hallowed “ _Uh oh”,_ after the air was knocked clean out of his lungs and his head was left painfully throbbing against the icy sheen of the floor.

Pacifica, as a result, bolted right up from her bed, her eyes wildly travelling all around the room until they landed on Dipper, whose position was really much more compromising than he would have liked. That was, seeing as she could only see his upper half before the wall at his waist ate the rest of him. It was no wonder why she screamed and Dipper felt himself panic even more, but to be fair, had their positions been switched, he’d have probably done the same.

Groaning, Dipper covered his eyes in both annoyance and embarrassment. _Stupid, STUPID Dipper. You’re still under the influence of INTACTILIS._ Why did he have to blow his cover like this of all ways??

Feeling his face turn as red as his Rudolph nose, he gulped. “Pacifica, please! I can explain!” he whispered hastily towards her in hopes of coaxing her. Scrambling up on his fore arms, she simply backed further away, jumping off her bed with a squeak and scurrying back into the wall like a frightened animal, the large pillow she had been crying into still clutched between her arms as she hid behind it. If he hadn’t been so terrified himself, he’d even think it was kind of cute, but as she rubbed furiously at her swollen eyes only to see that he was still there, she screamed again and Dipper flinched.

 _Oh no, what was he gonna do!? “Pacifica!”_ he tried again desperately, his worried plea successfully breaking her out of her frightened stupor. “Please, just calm down and let me explain!”

“B-but y-you’re— _you’re!!_ ” She pointed to his visible half and he wilted sheepishly before dragging the rest of his body out from behind the wall.

“Oh my god!! D-Dipper… A-Are you a—a _g-ghost?!?!_ ”

Giving her a nervous laugh, he smiled anxiously. “So you _do_ remember my name.” But when his attempt at playful banter only earned him a pointed glare from her, he resigned instantly. “No, I’m pretty sure I’m just Dipper.” He admitted, relieved to see her calm down a bit, her shaking considerably less noticeable.

“Then…h-how did you—”

“It’s a spell,” Dipper explained quickly, flapping his arms about wildly. “But it’s not what you think! I wasn’t using it to, y’know, spy on you or anything! I mean, I was, but I thought you were acting awfully suspicious this morning and I just got kinda’ curious, y’know? And one thing led to another and now I’m here and please don’t be mad at me, Pacifica! I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” Dipper rambled on, his eyes shut tightly by the end of his spiel as he heard her footsteps get closer.

When he peeked one eye open, he saw that she was staring at him intensely, a look of deep contemplation clouding her honey brown eyes, making him all the more nervous as the seconds ticked by. “So…you’re a wizard?” she said finally, and Dipper frowned.

“Yes! I mean, no. I mean! I wouldn’t call it _stalking_ , just like—wait what?”

“Do you have a wand, too? Oh my gosh, is Hogwarts, like, _real?!_ ”

Dipper was stunned into silence as Pacifica went off about all sorts of Harry Potter-related wizarding facts before he managed to squeeze in an incredulous, “Wait, you read _books?_ ”

 _Wow, Dipper. Really? Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you come up with?_ Although he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t dying to know if it were true.

At that, Pacifica scoffed. “Of course _not_. I watched the movies.”

_Ah yes, of course. That makes sense._

“ _Then_ I read the books.” She added, looking up thoughtfully as if she was remembering it herself. “I have to admit, the books were way better though.”

The brunette’s face lit up then. “AHA! I _knew_ it! And Grunkle Stan claims the movies are better!! …Well to be fair, he’s never read the books to begin with, so it’s not like he’s got all that viable of an opinion.” Dipper snorted before suddenly getting back to business.

“Wait so you’re not mad at me?” Dipper suddenly said then, his voice coming out a lot more pathetic than he would’ve liked. Fortunately, Pacifica only squinted at him in return, seemingly not noticing.

“Are you a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?”

“Would it make you feel better if I said yes?”

“ _Dipper_ ,” Pacifica warned and he relented.

“Okay, okay! I’m not!” he flung his arms up in surrender.

“Then what _are_ you!?” the blonde demanded and Dipper shrank.

“I’m…I’m nothing! I’m just…” He looked down at himself in quiet disappointment. “… _me_.”

Pacifica hummed then. “Okay, “ ** _me_** _”_. Then explain to me why you were skulking around here and spying on me if not to come and hand me my letter of acceptance to Hogwarts.” She huffed, and Dipper lost it, his frown instantly disappearing.

 _Holy cow, was this girl always this great?_ Dipper thought then as he giggled madly, the thought of it almost as bizarre as Pacifica’s current cheeky smile. The moment was short lived when there was a sudden knock on Pacifica’s door, successfully shutting Dipper up as the two whipped around wildly to stare at the door dumbly.

“Pacifica? Are you alright? Your mother asked me to check up on you. We heard screaming.” Came a muffled and unfamiliar voice, most likely a butler rather than a relative, judging by his polite and formal speech.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought though before Pacifica turned to look at Dipper horrified. “Quick, _hide!_ ” she whispered urgently and the brunette nodded. Dipper didn’t have to be told twice.

Diving into Pacifica’s closet, the blonde turned back to look at the door nervously, biting her lip before making her way towards her door hurriedly.

“Pacifica?”

“Coming!”

As she opened the door, her butler, Guthrie, looked down at her worriedly. “Are you alright?” He repeated. “What happened?”

“Oh, I—!” She glanced back nervously at her closet, making sure there wasn’t any suspicious limbs poking out of the closet, or just any sign of Dipper, really, before fumbling for a lie. “I thought I saw a frog in my room.”

The gentleman looked at her strangely. “A…frog?” he responded incredulously. When Pacifica glared back at him crossly, he instantly looked more sincere.

“Yes, a big fat _frog_.”

Dipper had to bite back the urge to shout out an indignant, “Hey!” from inside the closet when the butler spoke up again.

“You screamed twice,” he reminded her.

“Well I thought I saw a big fat frog _twice_ ,” she sassed back, and the man finally relented. Dipper himself could hardly contain a smile at Pacifica’s antics. Seriously, he hated himself for even thinking it, but she was pretty awesome.

“You sure you’re alright?” the man insisted. “I understand that it must be hard for you right now, with your father—”

“Guthrie, I’m fine. Can I just…have some time to myself? Please?” When the man nodded gently, Pacifica sighed out in relief. “Thanks.”

“If you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll be in the west wing tidying up if you need me.”

“Yeah, okay.” The blonde nodded back and smiled. Once the door was finally shut behind him, Pacifica turned back to look in the direction of her closet. “Okay, you can come out now, Mr. Frog.”

Dipper snorted. “Haha, very funny. Do I really make you think of a frog?” when he stepped out from her closet, he was relieved to see that the blonde seemed a lot less stunned this time to see him walking through things.

Pacifica shrugged. “It was the first thing that came to my mind. It must be your clothes.” She admitted and Dipper looked down at his attire inquisitively. He started wearing his summer outfit today because the forecast said it would be considerably hotter, and he _was_ wearing a _substantial_ amount of green…but he was pretty sure that hardly warranted him such a nickname. The resemblance other than that was little to none. Besides, it was a faded green, one you’d never see on a naturally colored frog to begin with.

Shaking his head, he gave in regardless. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”

“So, like, how does it work?” she soliloquized suddenly.

Dipper’s nose scrunched in confusion. “Huh?”

“You know,” Pacifica cocked her brows and gestured towards him, as if that explained it. “The spell. I wanna know how you’re doing it.”

“Oh,” Dipper said dumbly, still feeling a little strange at the fact that he w _asn’t_ currently getting his butt kicked for intruding. “Ah, well, it’s this book,” he responded, hesitating a little before pulling out the thick journal to show her. He kind of did owe her for not ratting him out, so he supposed she deserved to at least get the honest to god truth. It was the least that he could do. Besides, he _did_ just kind of blabb that he’d been using magic. He might as well go full-frontal at his point. “It’s like an encyclopedia on the weird, but it also has a section on spells.”

When she looked at it interestedly, Dipper decided to hand her the book for herself, which she took gratefully. As she flipped through its pages, she noticed that about halfway through, the book’s contents became empty. “That’s strange…” she pondered, and Dipper nodded

“Yeah, it’s almost as if the author mysteriously disappeared before finishing it.” Dipper agreed, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders as he finally found someone to tell about the journal. It was kind of exciting actually. Sense the hospital had been closed at the time he’d tried to visit, he hadn’t exactly had the chance to tell Mabel yet, making him both eager and agitated. Though, he’ll admit to never having thought he’d be telling Pacifica about it.

As the blonde turned back to the beginning again, she stopped at the page where a little, dewy-eyed man was scribbled onto it. “Gnomes, really?” When she turned the book around to show him the unit herself, Dipper simply laughed.

“I know, but take my word for it. They’re real alright.” He grinned, and Pacifica eyed him suspiciously.

Flicking through the rest of the chapters, the blonde seemed engrossed as her fingers trailed over lines of wisdom and illustrations of strange creatures she’d never remembered seeing. “So they’re all real?” she probed, and Dipper hesitated.

“From the looks of it, yeah. As unbelievable as it may seem, I’ve encountered some pretty questionable things already, and it’s all in the book. Not to mention that the spells actually _work_.”

She nodded, seemingly accepting his answer before scanning the spell pages. After a while of just reading, Pacifica slumped. “Do you…maybe think there’s anything for curing someone who’s fallen into a coma?” she asked quietly then, her voice considerably softer than before. Dipper looked away at that. He shouldn’t have been surprised by her question, seeing as he had wondered the same thing when he first saw the book’s spell section, but he also felt bad that he couldn’t make her problems disappear with the flick of his wrist. It was especially troublesome when he understood the pain she was going through. She just wanted to fix her family. Dipper couldn’t tell her how many times he’d tried to do the same only to realize it couldn’t be done.

“If there is, and that’s a pretty big _if_ , I haven’t encountered it yet.” Dipper confessed, and Pacifica bowed her head in disappointment. When the silence between them became too thick for Dipper to bear, he whispered, “I’m sorry about your dad.”

When she didn’t say anything in return, Dipper was about to come up with something else to say, desperate to try and make things even a little better, but his train of thought was interrupted as Pacifica closed the book and offered it up to him. Taking the volume back from her gently before tucking it away safely back into his bag, she finally spoke again.

“Why do you always hang around the hospital anyway?” she inquired quietly then, effectively gaining Dipper’s full attention. He seemed a bit unsure on whether or not he should tell her but eventually relented.

He licked his chapped lips. “My sister’s there.” He replied simply.

Pacifica looked up at him. “Why is she there?” she seemed curious now. When it occurred to her that he might not be all that willing to talk about it, she made to apologize, but Dipper stopped her before she could.

“No, it’s okay,” he said, glancing back at her with a small, lop-sided grin. “She’s, um…she’s been in a coma for a couple of years now, but I like to give her company when I can.” He admitted softly, earning a surprised, yet sympathetic look from Pacifica.

“So those flowers…”

“They were for my sister.”

Pacifica hid her face in between her hands, suddenly shaking. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Dipper.” She breathed, and Dipper was startled to find her crying again so suddenly.

“H-hey…!” Dipper tried, almost afraid to touch the girl as he attempted to comfort her. Was he really close enough to her to even try to understand? “It’s fine, r-really! I didn’t expect you to magically know why I did the things that I did.” He reasoned, but she didn’t move.

When he heard her sobs, he felt his heart drop all over again. “Paz, I… please don’t cry anymore. I don’t care about all that. It’s cool. Just…lighten up for me.”

He practically beamed when she peaked out from between her fingers. “ _Paz?_ ” she pointed out and Dipper blushed hotly. He avoided her teasing eyes madly before scoffing and crossing his arms defensively.

“W-what? You th-thought you could get away with giving me a nickname without getting one of your own?!” he choked out rapidly, and the blonde was suddenly laughing.

She was _laughing._ Like whole-hearted, honest-to-god real laughter!

It was a completely different sound from her forced out haughty one, but it was a much nicer one to hear. He almost didn’t believe that it was coming from the same _person_.

“You know, you’re not so bad, Mr. Frog.” She giggled, and Dipper sighed out in relief.

He could work with that.

  

* * *

 

 

On his way back to the shack after making sure to pay Mabel a visit from the hospital later, it was already way past his shift and the sky was fading into an elegant shade of azure. He had spent the day making Pacifica forget about her troubles, and at the same time, he had helped himself forget his own too. They had talked about the journal, Pacifica had ordered them _frikken room service,_ and Dipper had come to learn that Pacifica was also secretively a fan of video games. In which he proceeded to practically melt in awe at her amazing collection of specifically Mega Man games—she had all the games from every series, man!! _Every. Single. One!!_ To say that he loved this girl was an understatement. She was the coolest girl on the damn _planet_. Aside from Mabel of course. She would always be his number one gal.

Oh, and he almost forgot about his laughing fit when they’d shared Pacifca’s large-as-all-hell dinner in her room and her butler seemed frightened at the amount missing on the plate. After all, the silver tray and it’s cutlery had practically been licked clean by Dipper—who, to be fair, had never had food this good in his entire life and had been pretty much starving all day—so he completely understood his shock seeing as he had no clue that the blonde had shared her food, but it made Pacifica turn pink in response and she shooed him away quickly before he could ask. Poor guy never seemed so lost his entire life, according to Pacifica, only making Dipper laugh harder until he was whacked on the arm by her controller. She complained for the rest of their match that the staff was going to think that she was a pig, and that only lead to more laughter and more bruises on Dipper’s arms.

It was almost surreal of him to think back on it. The entire day had been frightening and spent hiding, but it had also ended somehow favourably for him, with him making a new friend and all. And while it wasn’t what he had in mind when he had set out to spy on Pacifica Northwest, it was still _definitely_ worth it. 10/10 would recommend breaking in and entering again.

He was in such an exceptionally good mood in fact, that he hardly remembered about his clone. So when he finally managed to bike his way through the trail in the woods leading back to the shack, he made sure to enter warily, not wanting to confuse his grunkle with him supposedly being upstairs and all and then suddenly being at his back door.

But just as he reached said entrance, he felt a sharp pang in his head. Wincing and reaching a hand up to rub at it, he whined softly. _Come on, really? I couldn’t have gotten the head ache after I managed to sneak in and take care of things?_

**_I don’t think that’s a good idea, kid._ **

Dipper suddenly stiffened, whirling around frantically for the source of the voice he’d just heard.

“Who’s there?”

When the teen’s shallow whisper went unanswered, he straightened up nervously. Maybe he’d just thought he’d heard it…? Shrugging off the suddenly sick feeling at the pit of his stomach, he ignored it in favour of resuming his activities.

 _I don’t have time for this right now,_ he shook his head, suddenly feeling his headache vanish. He tried not to dwell on how strange that was in case it came back due to his habit of overthinking everything.

Whipping out his keys and unlocking the door, he noticed that Stan wasn’t anywhere near sight anyway. If anything, the house seemed eerily empty. He supposed that was a good thing. I mean, it did make it a lot easier for him to slip by, for one, but it still caught him off guard. While knowing that it wasn’t strange for the house to be this quiet at this particular hour of night, Dipper proceeded with caution regardless. It could just be that Stan was asleep early. The old fart was a senior, so he didn’t tend to stay up all that long anyhow, making it more or less a common phenomenon. But it did make Dipper feel a little uneasy, seeing as how it left the doppel pretty much unattended.

 _Come on Dipper, he’s a fourteen-year old clone of sensible you. He’s got to be at least half as smart as you, and therefore more than capable of handling himself_ , his brain had tried to reason, succeeding in calming his nerves down a bit.

 _You’re probably right_ , he thought back to himself and he could’ve sworn he heard a muffled snicker.

As he skulked around quietly, his eye caught a glimpse of a shiny object in the corner near the back entrance where he’d entered from. As he squinted at it, he realized that it was more specifically…a piece of glass?

Dully noting to remind Stan that the shack was in need of a good sweeping, Dipper was surprised to find more glinting shards in his wake, all small enough to be missed, but just large enough for the brunette to see when there was light for them to reflect. While he thought it was strange for Stan to have the Shack littered with glass—as it was not only dangerous but an insult to his impulse to have any reason to boss people around—it probably wasn’t too far-fetched to assume that Stan had just simply been too lazy to pick them up himself. That just wasn’t his style, although perhaps he _had_ broken something after Shack hours, because otherwise, having scattered glass on the floor was surely the perfect incentive to make someone work.

Walking past the kitchen, Dipper noticed a small crumpled up piece of paper that hadn’t been there that morning. He decided he’d just throw it away for his grunkle like a good samaritan, seeing as no one else was going to do it. But before he did, he made sure to check its contents in case it was important. He was glad that he did, because it ended up being a note from the Grunkle in question. And it was addressed to _him._

“Oh boy, can’t you even leave a note like a normal person, old man?” Dipper whispered under his breath, fumbling with the creased up thing while trying to straighten it out against the edge of the wooden table.

When it became legible—which was a damn miracle considering his grunkle’s chicken scratch for English—he was met with a small amount of relief.

_Be back in a bit. Gonna get some groceries. If you need anything, wake Soos up. He’ll drive up there and act as your maid. Under no circumstances will you dial 911. Unless if it’s to prank ‘em. But it better be a damn good prank and it better not get me into jail._

There was a “P.S.” at the end of the note, where what he assumed must’ve been the Hispanic’s number was scribbled carelessly into the wrinkles, the digits being scratched out at least three times to make it painfully obvious that Stan didn’t have a clue what the employee’s cell actually was. He had probably been looking it up himself on his phone as he dented it into the note, otherwise he wouldn’t have goofed up that many times. That or he’d noticed that he had shit handwriting and rewrote some of the digits because his ones probably looked like sevens, or something equally as dumb and silly.

Shaking his head then, Dipper smiled crookedly, shoving the note into his pocket instead before continuing up the house more relaxed this time. Now that he knew he had no reason to creep around, he let himself yawn loudly, cracking his sore shoulders and letting his feet fall a little more naturally when he walked. When he got to the stairs, he still felt oddly compelled to skip all the creaky steps anyway, feeling awkward about them in the thick silence. Besides, he wasn’t entirely alone in the house either. He’d rather not have his clone know he’d be coming because of the screeching. He might even startle him.

On his way up to his room, he sighed contentedly, feeling relieved that he’d managed to do something right for once that day. From the looks of it, everything went just fine, and it made him look back at the book in his bag instinctively as it made him smile again.

_If it wasn’t for the journal, things would’ve gone completely different today._

Giving it a good pat through his messenger, he made for his room, reaching out for the knob’s lock with Stan’s old, spare keys. He’d stopped briefly when he’d noticed more glass near his door, making his face scrunch up in befuddlment. _Note to self, Either Stan was drunk today when he dropped multiple objects in lots of places, or he didn’t drop anything at all and the Shack is just randomly getting a bad case of “glassitis”._

That’s when he finally took the time to notice that his door was already slightly ajar—rendering his half jammed-in key useless—which was surprising to say the least, considering how he had specifically told the doppel to lock himself up, but as long as everything went along just fine, it didn’t really matter, he supposed. After all, he had been gone a lot longer than he had originally intended and his grunkle wasn’t even home. Expecting the guy to stay put all day was kind of cruel.

Fingering said keys before shoving them in his pocket, he opened the door gently to find that his room was missing the doppel in question.

Suddenly his heart stopped.

“…Dipper?” he whispered out uncertainly. It was weird, calling out to it using his own name, but it’s not like he had given him a different name or anything before departing. He was starting to sorely regret that decision.

When there was no answer, Dipper felt his nerves crawl over him uncomfortably. “Dipper?” he tried again, but to no avail. Despite the soft ticking coming from the old grandfather clock downstairs, the shack suddenly felt _too_ quite. “Uhh, clone me?”

Still no response.

_Crap._

The pale teen began to scramble around the house for the missing clone madly, but with every door he opened to find only an empty room, he felt his fear devour him further. He was beginning to panic when there wasn’t any trace of him anywhere. Maybe he hadn’t even come here at all?

 _No, then Stan would’ve been in my recents for at least the last one billion contacts,_ and _my phone would’ve been ringing all day, so that can’t be it._

That brought him some comfort at least, but who’s to say that he hadn’t left right after the shift instead? It would explain the note too. If Dipper, err, _fake_ Dipper had really been here, than wouldn’t Stan’ve simply told the clone instead?

And suddenly, said comfort was gone again, a new wave of anxiety filling in.

The thought practically killed Dipper, because if it were true, than that meant that the clone could be anywhere at this point, and he’d never know where. And while he was pro-freedom and all, he was still wearing _his_ **_face_**.

Eventually, he’d come to the realization that the only room he hadn’t checked yet was the attic. He didn’t like going in there all that much sense there was this large, red, stained glass window of an eye encased by a triangle that reflected unnerving distorted eyes all over the floor. When he’d asked Stan about it, he had simply snorted, telling him that he had an over active imagination and that he was just imagining the window and its refraction of light to being creepy, saying something about it simply adding atmosphere to the shack’s appearance. And while he’d accepted that it was probably all true, it didn’t make it any easier for him to travel up there alone.

That’s why when he’d finally managed to climb up the stairs towards it, he was little more than simply reluctant. There was a loud and sudden **_CRACK!_** ing noise from above and Dipper visibly hunched over like he’d expected a tornado to barrel through. _What the hell was that!? It sounded like it came from the attic!_ He felt the beads of sweat that had formed both during his search for the clone and the new ones that had just accumulated from his abrupt fear run down his spine uncomfortably, the thin air suddenly feeling a lot more chilly up here. He figured that was a given though when Oregon nights tended to be fairly cool, even in the summer.

Even knowing that, he couldn’t help but still feel that it was…abnormal.

Once Dipper had managed to work the door open, it creaked painfully loud, making him flinch. Even though he knew Stan wasn’t in the shack or anything, something about the noise and how agonizingly obvious it gave away his position made him madly uncomfortable.

Dipper’s breath suddenly hitched when he was met with mirrors upon mirrors, all of which were shattered to smithereens among the glowing red room, only serving to spawn a thousand more red eyes in his direction, their gazes illuminating the room’s wooden roof with bloody irises. The brunette recognized the mirrors as being originally placed all around the shack, such as the one hanging in the hallway, another from the living room, and a handful of large ones which he knew had come from the basement when his Grunkle Stan had explained to him that he had once tried to convert the basement into a funhouse sort of attraction for the younger customers on a trip down there to receive some supplies. Heck, the bathroom mirror—which was multi-functional as a shelf—was even there, broken to pieces and its contents splattered all over the floor, which, he knew for a fact, Grunkle Stan would _not_ approve of. Perhaps his grunkle’s frugality was rubbing off on him, because he could practically hear him screaming in his head about what a waste of money it all was. And yet, in the middle of all of it was Doppel Dipper, a simple black silhouette in the glow of the strange window with a much too wide, crooked grin plastered over his face.

Covering his mouth to keep himself from screaming, Dipper inhaled deeply. _Relax. He’s under your spell, remember? He listens solely to you._

Gathering up his courage, Dipper straightened, trying his damnedest to keep his breathing steady and quiet, as he had already alerted his clone of his presence because of it. “What are you doing?” Dipper asked him lightly, too afraid to actually scold his mirror-self.

When the entity simply stared back, still wearing its incredibly unnatural grin, Dipper started to feel immensely creeped out. Just as he thought that his adrenaline couldn’t pump any thicker through his veins, his doppelganger began to laugh maniacally.

“I had started to believe that you wouldn’t come back.” It sneered, standing and turning to face him fully. That’s when Dipper noticed the blood streaking down the doppel’s hands as he fingered bits of glass in-between the digits. “To be honest, I was hoping that maybe you had gotten hit by a bus or something,” it shrugged casually, as if talking about something as mildly pleasant as the weather, and Dipper felt sick to his stomach.  When the insane entity revealed a suspiciously large shard of glass in his right hand leaking with his own bright blood, Dipper suddenly realized that there was no talking his way out of this one. And sure, the guy had been weird when they’d first met, but he seemed completely different now, could practically feel it in the air, even. Speaking of air, Dipper’s lungs were failing him, and he needed to run. _Now_.

Barely feeling his shaking legs stumble down the stairs, he yelped when he heard more loud smashing. Doppel Dipper was not pleased to see him back in once piece, apparently, and he was surprisingly okay with that, seeing—or rather well, _hearing_ —his identical copy bound after him. It was obvious that they wouldn’t have hit it off anyway.

“HOLY FUCK!!” Dipper narrowly missed slipping on the turn down from the stairs and could swear he felt a swipe at his nape. The thought of that pointy devil’s instrument so close to his neck gave him instant chills and he could practically feel the tears stream down his face.

 _This is it, you’re a dead man, Dipper Pines,_ he thought frantically to himself, feeling his numbing legs carry him quicker than he’d ever ran in his entire life, pure fear driving him at this point. He shivered allover when Dopple Dipper gave a shrill cry of approval. “Damn, Dippy!” with a high-pitched whoop, he thrummed down the second set of stairs after him with ease. “Run fucking _faster!_ ” it cheered, treating him like damn cattle.

But he’d be damned if he didn’t listen. Fortunately, they both had the same capacity for running, meaning neither of them could actually run faster than the other, and while the teen made sure he stayed constantly one step-ahead, this was fine, but on the other hand, Dipper lacked endurance, which Doppel Dipper seemingly _didn’t_. And he supposed that made sense as he wasn’t quite human to begin with. _Dammit!_

He was knocked hard into the floor as Doppel Dipper laughed above him, the sharp shard glinting murderously right into his eyes. The teen tried to look away but he couldn’t, his eyes fixated on the horrid image above.

“You know, if it wasn’t so damn important that I kill you right now, I’d take my time with you, maybe even play around with you a bit.” This was only emphasized by the clone’s glass piece dragging over his companion’s features, successfully nicking him a couple of times and making him wince at the burning feeling. _Fuck, it’s like getting a bunch of paper cuts on your fucking face!_

“It’s a damn shame too, Dippy. I kinda’ liked you. You have a darkness in you that I honestly admire.” His clone grinned and dipped his fingers into the boy’s shirt, horrifying said brunette as he watched the digits phase right through him and burn holes into his chest. He let out a harsh yell that made the clone giggle madly and left Dipper writhing on the floor. The entity almost seemed to soak it all up like a greedy sponge, relishing it in a way that only disgusted Dipper like he’d never been before. “…That magical vessel of yours that makes you one hundred times more valuable than the average Joe,” he continued, twisting his fingers and earning another blood curdling scream from his panting victim. “I’m _proud_ to be you’re doppel.” It sang, batting its eyes at him mockingly before placing a sincere hand over its non-existent heart. But between the tears and the cries, Dipper could hardly tell what was going on anymore.

“I wish I could say the same,” Dipper rasped, and he felt his fingertips finally grip something. There was only a split second after that where the brunette slammed a vase over Doppel’ Dipper’s head before scrambling out from underneath him and bolting again, taking advantage of the double’s sudden shrieks of pain.

He managed to get in a large gap of distance, but just as he was about to let out a sigh of relief, he let out a sudden yelp of distress instead as he was met with a dead-end. When he tried opening the door, he found it locked and unwilling to budge, and he felt himself die a little internally as he released the knob in defeat.

He’d been so caught up in getting away that he didn’t seem to realize that he’d ran the wrong way. “No no _no!_ ” Dipper whined, and he geared himself for another fight. He quickly scrambled for any kind of instrument to use before warily heading back. Suddenly feeling woozy, Dipper shook his head only to find that all the shapes around him were distorting, glowing gold triangles encasing the edges of things, but when he blinked, it stopped, and everything was seemingly back to normal.

_Huh…Well that was weird…_

After shaking off the weirdness, he turned back into the hallway stiffly with a damn painting in hand. Getting ready to whack a hoe back into hell, he stopped when he noticed the doppel looking lost and helpless, small curses spilling from his lips as it fumbled around the floor for something. On instinct, Dipper looked for the missing shard once he’d noticed it was MIA and found it and a small trail of blood strewn a couple of feet away from the guy.

If the teen didn’t know any better, he’d say the clone was… _blind_.

_What the…but then how has he been seeing this entire time??_

**_Oh come on, Pine Tree. Even you can’t be this stupid._ **

It was that voice again! _Wait… **pine tree**?_

 _Mouthless!?!?!_ Dipper’s mind screeched.

**_So that’s what you call me? Really? You couldn’t come up with a more endearing term for a strapping guy like me? Come on, Pine Tree, I thought a made a much more charming first impression than that._ **

Dipper scoffed. _Yeah, says the one who calls me after a freaking shrub._

**_Trust me, sapling. It’s relevant. And besides, I thought it was cute. At least it’s better than mouthless!_ **

_Mouthless is accurate!! And when have Pine Trees ever been relevant?!?_

**_It’s on my summoning wheel._ **

_You’re what?_

**_It’s not important. Look, we got bigger fish to fry right now and we can bicker like an old married couple all you want later. For now, focus on what I’m about to tell you._ **

Dipper blushed. _Old married couple? We’re not a_ _—_

**_Focus, Pine Tree!_ **

_Y’know, I don’t think I like you reading my mind,_ Dipper crossed his arms embarrassedly.

**_I can assure you that I don’t like reading your mind half the time either but you don’t hear me complaining about it._ **

_Ah, that’s…_ Dipper was at a loss for words.

**_Much Better. Anywho, when was it when you first summoned the spirit?_ **

_Spirit?_

**_Quickly Pine Tree!_** It ordered.

 _U-uh-uhm, early this morning! Around eight!_ His mind stuttered as he wracked his brain for the answer.

There was some mumbling after that. **_Damn, that’s a lot longer than I thought… I suppose it doesn’t make too much of a difference though. We’ll just have to work a little harder._**

Dipper simply stood there as the guy monologued in his head, unsure of what to do until there was a sudden, **_Okay, listen up!_**

_Yeah?_

**_You need to shut down the power._ **

_What? Why?! How am I supposed to see!?_

**_It’s not you who I’m concerned about seeing, it’s him. You need to make sure he can’t see! Now do as I say before he finds his glass shard!!_ **

Dipper frowned at that. _Why can’t I just pick it up?? Or better yet, smash it???_

 ** _NO!_** Came the abrupt roar. **_Do not, and I mean DO NOT smash any glass under any circumstances! You’ll only be helping the bastard!_**

That flipped a switch in Dipper’s brain as the gears in his head started to turn again. _Wait, you mean he can see through them?_

 ** _I knew you were smart, Pine Tree._** Came the voice again, and Dipper felt a wave of bashfulness overcome him at the high praise.

 _That’s why there was glass scattered all over the shack,_ the boy reasoned, and the entity in his head grunted in approval. _To keep surveillance on the shack._

**_Right again, kiddo. Now what do you say we sever the fucker’s eye sight completely?_ **

Dipper grinned at that. _Sounds like a plan to me. …But how come we can’t just leave the shack?_

 ** _Moonlight, Pine Tree, it’ll reflect on anything that shines and he’ll be able to see you. Speaking of which, on your way to the power, try to avoid appearing in the glass._** It reminded him, and he nodded.

_Yeah, okay. I guess that makes sense._

Sneaking past the doppel, Dipper made his way past the stairs down to the basement where all the machinery was located. He found the switch for the power and tugged on it roughly, successfully shrowding the place in complete darkness. Now there was no way evil Dipper 2.0 would be able to see him unless he stood in the moonlight.

_Now what do I do? I can’t exactly see._

**_If it makes you feel better, neither can the doppel._ **

_Ha-ha, okay, wise guy. Just start explaining._

**_That spell you used? Bad news._ **

_Obviously,_ Dipper snorted.

**_You’re in no position to be sassing me, kid._ **

The teen stiffened abruptly. _Sorry._

**_Anyway, that spell wasn’t even finished._ **

_Wait, WHAT?!_

**_You started a ritual that needs to be followed precisely. When you summon the doppel, you’re offering that spirit a physical body into this realm. Fortunately, with the transformation, it loses its magical capabilities, but that’s why it wants you._ **

_Me? Speaking of which, he tried to kill me, why’s that?_

**_You two are part of a whole. The doppel of someone is usually the more spiritual and magical half of a person, but it resides in a parallel world; the spirit world. When one half is distinguished, normally, it creates an unbalance in the two worlds, but your doppel knows a lot more about this than you, and he can control that balance. Once he’s killed you, he’s going to absorb you and make your physicality apart of him, making him a whole on his own. You, as the prime Dipper, are normally the stronger of the two. While he’s got magic, you’ve got power. You’re physical and therefore have a control he doesn’t possess, and that’s what he’s after._ **

_Wow…uh…while I can see how that’s appealing, what’s the point?_

**_Lucky for you, I am quite familiar with doppels. Unlucky for me, they are a pain in my ass. Believe it or not, doppels are extreme elitists. They want to overthrow their counterparts to become the primary entities of their pair. They want control over your world and to make you humans extinct._ **

_So basically, they want doppel paradise?_

**_You’ve got it, Pine Tree._ **

_So why are you helping me exactly? What’s in it for you?_ The boy inquired skeptically.

The voice in his head hummed in amusement. ** _What? I can’t help people because I feel like it?_**

_You were the one who said you only gave one freebie, not two._

**_Good memory, sapling._** The voice laughed. **_Well sense you caught me in the lie, I suppose I could reward you. Remember how I said they were a pain in the ass? Well it’s true. If they take over the world, we’ll have to bow to those fuckers. I’m not exactly keen on that, so now can you see why I want him gone as bad as you do?_**

 _…Yeah, I guess so_ , Dipper hesitated. He supposed that was a completely valid reason…but…

**_Good! Now let me explain the rest of the ritual. Normally, an experienced spell caster would slap a leash on that motherfucker the moment he came out of his dimension._ **

Dipper had to put a pause there. _Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you saying? That I’m not an experienced spell caster?_

**_Pine Tree, please. You just started casting spells today. You’re not fooling anyone._ **

The brunette grumbled, wondering how to keep the jerk out of his head, and surely reading such thoughts, the voice chuckled. _Well, how do I castrate the mofo?_

**_You’re good at latin, right?_ **

_I’ve studied some, yeah._

**_Then repeat after me, Audite, creatura ex spiritus mundi._ **

 “Audite, creatura ex spiritus mundi!”

**_Nunc quod habeo liberata vos de tua carcere,_ **

“Nunc quod habeo liberata vos de tua carcere,”

**_Facies arcum ante mihi._ **

“Facies arcum ante mihi!”[iii]

**_Now repeat it until that bastard heels!_ **

Dipper nodded, following the voice’s example again. There was a screech this time.

**_Don’t hesitate! Again!!_ **

The brunette shuddered once he heard multiple things toppling over. It sounded like the doppel was going crazy. “What’s going on!?” Dipper squeaked, his eyes going wide as it began to bang on all the doors, probably madly in search of him.

**_He knows what you’re doing, and he isn’t happy about it. But it doesn’t matter, just keep chanting!_ **

The boy did as he was told, and he continued to repeat the words the voice in his head uttered like an echo, until he practically memorized the line himself.

The doppel’s shrieks eventually stopped and the voice in his head did too.

“Um, mouthless?”

**_…You better check up on him, kid. But be careful._ **

Dipper gulped at the voice’s sudden ominous tone. He almost sounded worry, which obviously didn’t do his nerves any favours. Did it not work the way it was supposed to?

Coming out of the basement anxiously, the brunette felt his way through the halls before the voice in his head piped up again.

**_Pine Tree, stop!_ **

Dipper did as he was told, almost tripping over something. When that something made to grab his ankle, he yelped and the voice was back, practically screaming at him.

**_Kid, the incantation!! NOW!_ **

Kicking the slick hand away roughly, Dipper grunted, feeling a warm liquid drip down to his ankles. _Gross!! It bled on me!!!_

Dipper could’ve sworn he heard a, **_you’ll live_** _,_ chuckled out but he ignored it. “Audite, creatura ex spiritus mundi!” he huffed, stepping on the hand that tried to grab him again. He flinched at the growl he heard in response but did not relent, squishing it the next time it tried and twisting his foot this time to hear it emit a crackling noise from underneath his sole and the subsequent squeal. It was oddly fascinating, and _very_ rewarding to hear.

“Nunc quod habeo liberata vos de tua carcere,” this time, it was trying to bite a chunk off his leg and Dipper almost broke out in a scream, but he bit it back, continuing the spell while roughly slamming it back with his foot, hearing another satisfying crunch as his mouth became etched with a strange smile.

“Facies arcum ante mihi!” the blasted thing continued to attack him so Dipper continued to chant the words, slowly getting louder, and surely beating the doppel pretty damn well.

“ _Audite_ , creatura ex spiritus mundi!” he spat again and the thing hissed before making him trip onto the floor with him. _Damn, he’s persistent!_ It seemed sluggish in its movements now though, so it must’ve been working, spurring him on to continue.

“Nunc quod habeo liberata vos de tua carcere!” he breathed roughly while wrestling with the doppel, its hands finding its way to his neck and successfully cutting Dipper short in his words.

“Facies—” Dipper coughed, fighting at the trembling hands at his throat, and he felt dread suddenly replace the air in his lungs.

“Come on, Dipper. You don’t want this!” the creature slurred, its tone smug, as if Dipper was the one getting whipped and not him. “I can make us stronger! I can make the _world_ stronger.” He insisted, and Dipper could practically see the outline of his grin and dull eyes in the dim moonlight.

“ar-arcum—” the boy gasped and the doppel rolled his eyes.

“So…that’s a no.” he stated rather than asked, and Dipper squeezed his eyes shut. _Shit,_ he was getting light-headed already? Feeling the fingers dig in further and his groans come out weaker, the doppel shushed him. “It’s okay, Dipper. We’re gonna become one, and then you’ll understand.”

Dipper didn’t want to understand. “a-an-ante mi-mihi…” the boy whispered, and his counterpart hummed delightedly.

 _Mouthless…_ Dipper’s broken thoughts pleaded.

**_Dammit, kid! You waited too long to put the leash on! He’s stronger than I thought!!_ **

“Till death do us part, little Dipper.”

The teen’s eyes fluttered closed, and the doppel loosened his grip on him once he felt his body sag underneath him. When the boy hit the floor hard with a **_thunk!_** , the doppel began laughing hysterically, relishing in his victory. “It’s about time I finished this ritual! My friends on the other side are waiting for me, little Dipper. Soon, you’ll get to meet them too.” It sneered, eyes practically twinkling as his laughter filled the house with sadistic echoes. That was until a second one joined him, one he didn’t recognize.

“Huh?” Suddenly, the doppel was knocked into the wooden floor by an unknown force, leaving his jaw rippling in pain as it shot up all the way to the hairs on the top of his head. He grunted and the strange laughter only got louder. He was pounded again and his back hit the wall, mouth dripping with what must’ve been his body’s blood before he felt a weight push down on his chest viciously.

**“YOU _IDIOT_. YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD COME INTO MY TOWN AND TAKE OVER MY PLANET?”**

The Doppel’s eyes widened as it turned wildly around, not sure of where the sound was coming from since the source was coming from _all_ directions. It impaired him and left him completely disabled, and the voice laughed at it, at _him_. “ _B-bill?_ H-how are y-you—?”

**“THAT’S RIGHT, TRY TO FIND ME, I DARE YOU.”**

Dipper’s double gritted his teeth at the condescending tone, clawing all around him with bloody and chipped nails but to no avail, and no matter how hard he tried to pick out the direction the voice was in, it was useless as he was simply bombarded by multiple voice wavelengths that distorted his judgement.

**“AUDITE, CREATURA EX SPIRITUS MUNDI!**

**NUNC QUOD HABEO LIBERATA VOS DE TUA CARCERE,**

**_FACIES ARCUM ANTE_ _MIHI!_ ”** the voice resounded and the doppel was left powerless, the magic dripping from his voice a thousand times more powerful than the boy’s as his body was forced into a kneeling position. Body trembling and trying its best to resist, he was forced to slump to the floor and bow. He was now bound to him once again.

“B-but, h-how!? Y-you’re not Dipper! O-only Dipper c-can—!”

 **“BOY, YOU DOPPEL’S SURE LIKE THE SOUND OF YOUR VOICES.”** Bill smirked as he violently shoved the mirror-image’s head to the floor with his foot.

Coughing, the fake Dipper croaked, “No… Dipper, he wouldn’t…”

Bill laughed maniacally. **“HE DID. SORRY, PAL, BUT IT LOOKS LIKE HE CHOSE TO BET ON THE WINNING HORSE.”**

Cracking his knuckles, the demon finally opened his two eyes to reveal Dipper’s distorted face in the yellow glow, pupils slitted and sclera a toxic yellow. **“NOW, WHAT DO YOU SAY WE GET THIS PARTY STARTED?”**

Dragging his fellow mate from the spirit world upstairs to the one mirror left in the entire house, Bill laughed. The Doppel was begging him to let him go and the demon was loving it.

“Please! Let me kill Dipper! I promise I’ll only bring my people over! You can have the planet, just let me finish the ritual!!”

**“WHAT ABOUT YOUR FAREWELL PARTY? IT’S RUDE TO LEAVE HALFWAY.”**

The clone winced, and his eyes turned frantic. “Please! Dipper! Don’t let him do this to you! Eject him!! He’ll ruin you all!!”

 **“VENITE, TRANSEAT EX HOC MUNDO.** **ITE IN TERRAM VESTRAM IN LOCO MEO SICUT SECUNDOS. EXEATIS MUNDUM ET OMNIA ATTACHIAMENTA.”**[iv] Slamming the doppel into the mirror, it screeched in horror, its body slowly fading as it was sucked back into its rightful place between worlds. In a matter of seconds, Bill was left staring at an obedient reflection of his vessel, two yellow eyes blinking back blankly.

Now that the deal had been fulfilled, Bill was kicked out of Dipper’s body, and the brunette was suddenly thrown back into his own flesh and limbs with a hearty gasp.

Slowly regaining control of himself, the brunette coughed violently, his entire body buzzing with the feeling left by his companion’s strong magic. “You’re name is Bill?” croaked out Dipper, and the demon hummed, allowing his image to project in the room, his starry shadow glowing after the transaction.

“That’s right, which means that you don’t get to call me _mouthless_ anymore.”

“That’s bull crap! You’re still mouthless though!!”

“I assure you that I won't be for long. With that deal, and my…recent activities, I’ll be strong enough to recreate my normal body soon.”

Dipper seemed skeptical about that. “Is it still mouthless?” he teased, and Bill bristled.

“AS A MATTER OF FACT, NO, IT ISN’T,  _PINE TREE!_ ” he growled and Dipper glared right back.

“Stop calling me, that! It doesn’t even make any sense!!”

“Oh, it will  _soon.”_  He sang smugly and the brunette rolled his eyes in a massively annoyed gesture. He had a feeling Bill wasn't telling him something and that only ticked him off even _more_.

“I doubt it,” he huffed, but Bill wasn’t listening.

“Well, I hope you learned a valuable lesson about not playing with magic, blah blah blah, aaaaand end awe-inspiring and educational speech. Until next time, Sapling.” The shadow bowed, taking off his top hat before jumping off from his window ledge again.

“No, wait! I still have questions!! What about the spell!? I want to write it down in the journal for future reference!  _BILL!!_ ”

When the only response he got back was the sound of crickets chirping and a suddenly slammed open door from downstairs, Dipper sighed.

“Dipper, I’m ho—SWEET BELGIAN WAFFLES! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE!?!? AND WHY THE _HELL_ _IS IT SO DARK!?!?_ **DIPPER!!!** ” Dipper ignored him as he dazed off into the mysterious unknown that was Gravity Falls.

The bastard sure liked to make flashy exits.

 

* * *

 [i] Flesh and blood, shadow and breath; Give unto me the power to possess that whom I see in the mirror.

[ii] Intangible touch is to be untouchable.

Therefore, I cannot be, and am inviolate.

[iii] Listen, creature of the spirit world!

Now that I have freed you from your prison,

Thou shalt bow before me.

[iv] Come and depart from this world. Go into your rightful place as my second. Let go of your attachments and cease to exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For art relating to this fic, be sure to check out my tumblr account! I'll be posting a reference sheet of Dipper's appearance in this AU alongside Bill's (which is already out) shortly, and there will most definitely be more detailed art of Doppel Dipper soon! So look forward to that! Anyway, thank you to all those who've stuck with me so far and I hope to see you guys soon in the next chapter! If you've got any questions behind the lore on Doppels for this story, don't hesitate to leave an ask on my tumblr (Speaking of which, I need to start checking it more often, haha (*OчO*) ) Anyway, yeah! Tumblr link's in my profile!!


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